Forbidden Hearts
by Inconnu
Summary: [SORATO] Sora Takenouchi wasn't prepared for falling for a blond, blue eyed prince or the twists in her path that it would bring. She soon learns that in the end, Fate always gets her way... wicked stepfamily or not. [COMPLETE]
1. Something More

**AN:** The classic **Cinderella** tale… with Digimon characters. Though it's very **cliché** and probably been done over one too many times, the idea of writing a version of the **Cinderella** story still appealed to me. A beautiful servant girl making a daring move to attend a forbidden ball, fall in love with the handsome prince, and then disappear- taking his heart with her… how could I resist? (laughs insanely)

It's not by-the-book **Cinderella** of course. I've changed some things around to make it different enough. I really hope everyone enjoys it.

As for the title… it just popped into my head, haha.

**Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.**

--------------------

**Forbidden Hearts: A Cinderella Story**

**Chapter 1 – Something More**

A cool morning breeze swept in from the open window, enveloping the sleeping figure. The girl stirred, brilliant auburn hair catching soft rays from the rising sun.

The door slowly opened and in crept an aging woman, "Sora…" she called to the sleeping girl. Receiving no reply, the woman walked over to the small bed and shook the girl, happily lost in a dream. "Sora."

Sora let out a moan and shifted her position.

The woman smiled softly, worn wrinkles appearing around her hazel eyes. God knew that the girl needed the sleep; she deserved it. Sora had been overworked the previous day, doing everything from cooking, cleaning and scrubbing to hurrying to complete her stepsister's dress, and then forced to rearrange some furniture in the spoiled girl's room.

At last, the sleeping figure came to. "Marianne?"

"Sora dear, it's time to get up."

"What hour is it?" she asked, stretching her arms and yawning.

The woman smiled, "Don't worry about that dear, Janine, Samuel, and I have done everything, but I need your help in the kitchen now."

Sora smiled dreamily, "Thank you so much, the three of you really shouldn't have—"

"Nonsense, that witch has been overworking you, I can't think of anyone else who deserves a break more than you."

"Marianne, you spoil me."

"Well, it's a good thing then. Someone here needs to spoil you," The older woman mumbled as she opened the drawer and retrieved Sora's clothing. "Come now dear, breakfast awaits."

----------

"Sora, my eggs are too salty! What did you do, drop in a pound of salt?! Butterfingers, take it back and do it right." A shrill voice screeched.

The auburn haired girl remained quiet and nodded politely, taking the plate and returning into the large kitchen. Marianne gave her a look, "Really dear, you're too kind, always doing what that spoiled girl says without so much as an objection." She paused to pick up the fork and give the eggs a taste, "These eggs are perfect! I don't see what she's making such a fuss over."

Sora smiled, "It's okay Marianne, I don't mind. I know the eggs are fine, which is why we can eat them instead of throwing them out. You know Janine and Sam haven't been getting enough food."

"You need it, skin and bones you are."

"No, I don't." Sora busied herself with taking out two fresh large eggs from the basket.

"Sora! Hurry up!" The shrill voice echoed through the glossy halls.

"Yes Miyako!" she called back.

--------------------

"Prince Yamato, your breakfast is ready."

The blonde smiled halfheartedly, giving a great yawn. He was sitting up on his king size bed, amongst the rich silky goodness of his sheets and pillows. The servant left as soon as the breakfast had been served to the prince in bed. Yamato sighed. It was like that every morning; he'd wake up to breakfast in bed, get cleaned, get dressed, and then another boring aspect of his life. People envied him and he knew it, but he couldn't see why. Everyday was routine and set; he walked nothing but a straight path, not even a rock in the road to trip over.

Where was the excitement in life? Once when he was little, he had wandered away in the markets, only to be pulled aside by a pretty middle aged woman. She smiled at him kindly and whispered to him that one day, he would meet someone who would change his life. Being a young boy, he had been completely disgusted at the thought of falling in _love_ as the woman had suggested.

Yamato laughed, he never believed in such things. Besides, it was a good many years later and he was now twenty-three, much older than an unmarried prince should be. There was no lover to be seen. Surprisingly, his parents had never pushed him to wed, never even so much as tried to intervene with his nonexistent love life, probably because they knew he was too stubborn to be dealt with.

Prince Yamato didn't want a set life. He wanted to make his own decisions, to have freedom. There was something more out there that was waiting for him, calling for him. There just had to be.

--------------------

Sora sat comfortably on a stool, scrubbing the heavy dresses diligently. Her hands were numb from the freezing water and her knuckles were burning red, yet she did not cease her actions. It was a daily routine, she'd wake up, start soaking the clothes that needed to be washed, go help Marianne in the kitchen with breakfast, wash clothes, scrub floors, clean windows…

Squeezing out the water from one of her stepmother's dresses, Sora admired the clothing. Miyako and her mother really did have lovely dresses, but that was to be expected of one of the richest families. The following day was her stepsister's birthday, one of the reasons why everything in the house had to be cleaned—the queen was coming. The mansion was close to the palace, after all, Sora's father had been a good friend of the king and queen, so naturally, her stepmother would do all she could to strengthen ties with the royal family. Sora, Janine, Samuel, and Marianne all knew that they had secretly hoped that by inviting the queen, she would bring her son as well.

Prince Yamato. Sora reached up and placed a loose lock of auburn hair behind her ear as she let her thoughts wander. She had met him once when they were young, _very _young. In fact, she couldn't remember anything about the boy, except that they had played in the garden together. Rumors about the prince spread like wildfire among the denizens. Prince Yamato was said to be an amazingly handsome young man with deep sapphire eyes that could see into one's soul, and golden hair that put even the most golden of daffodils to shame—of course it was all rubbish and Sora didn't believe a word of it… but it made her wonder.

Her knuckles grazed against the side of the rough wooden bucket, causing them to bleed almost instantly. The slight pain shocked Sora back into reality and she continued to scrub rhythmically, ignoring the stinging sensation.

---

"Little miss, what are you doing out here."

The garden of the mansion was truly something to be admired. Everything blossomed in neat rows and the vibrant colors could take anyone's breath away. If there was one thing that Sora was grateful for when her stepmother and stepsister came to live with her and her father, it was that they never touched the gardens. They grew an abundance of flowers, ranging from common to exotic and foreign.

Sora loved the garden, it reminded her of her mother. She smiled dreamily, reliving the moments when she would play in the flowers as her mother tended to them. Sora would make little flower halos and put them on her mother, telling the woman that she was the most beautiful lady in all the lands. But that was a long time ago, and those happy thoughts had long since faded away.

"Little miss?"

Sora smiled with her eyes still closed as she slept in the flowerbed. "I finished my chores early so I thought I could help you."

A deep laugh came from the man standing before her, "Sleeping in the flowerbed and crushing the flowers is what you call helping?"

"Absolutely Sam."

"I must thank you then."

"No need." Sora giggled lightly and stood up, careful not to ruin any of the flowers. Surprisingly, the flowers hadn't been crushed, perhaps because it was mostly grass. Samuel frowned, it might have been because she was too light to do much damage.

"So, which patch are we tending to today?" Sora asked sweetly, smiling up at Samuel.

"The roses."

A short while later, the two were covered in dirt, and working meticulously by the flowers. When Sora paused Samuel glanced over at the girl. "Something wrong miss?"

She smiled warmly, "Mother loved the roses."

Samuel grinned and ran a hand through his graying hair. "Yes, I remember. She did a wonderful job with them too."

The girl frowned, "Miyako wants some in her room today." Sora never complained about the labor that her stepfamily put her through, but she never liked putting flowers in Miyako's room. To her, the flowers were sacred and pure, reminding her of her mother—her stepsister did not deserve to gaze upon such beauty.

"They'll probably wilt by the morning." Samuel said.

Sora laughed, "They really do! Last week, I put a vase of chrysanthemums in her room and the next day she had me throw them out since they had all wilted."

The gardener laughed, "I knew it."

It was because of Miyako that Sora worked in the gardens everyday. Though Sora was ordered around like a servant, she did possess some things that servants did not. Her room was larger than the others' and she had more changes of clothing. She always kept a vase of flowers in her room, not only to remind her of her mother, but also to add some life. Miyako had stormed into Sora's room one day and noticed the perfectly blooming flowers. Not only had she been completely furious with the way Sora's flowers stayed perfectly beautiful, Miyako had also gone to her mother, telling the woman of Sora's skill with flowers.

It wasn't meant as a compliment, for she had also suggested that they could put Sora to some work in the gardens as well. It was meant to make the girl do more labor, but Miyako never knew how much she enjoyed it.

People would compliment on the gardens and jokingly tell Sora's stepfamily that they could prosper selling the flowers. The redhead had always considered it to be one of the greatest compliments.

"Little miss?"

Samuel's voice called Sora back to reality and she blinked. "Sorry?"

He laughed, "You are such a dreamer." The gardener stretched his arms and sighed, "Little miss, you were not meant for this. There is so much waiting for you."

Sora stared at Samuel, unsure of how to interpret his words. "Sam?"

"If your mother was still with us… things would be much different."

She gave a smile, genuine and warm. "But she is with us, Sam. She is."

"You're right miss, don't let this old fool's words bother you."

"You're no old fool!" The girl giggled lightly and began clipping the smallest of the roses for Miyako's room. Her mood noticeably darkened. "If anyone was a fool, it would be my father."

"Little miss—"

"Sora!"

The two turned to see a brunette run towards them. "Janine?" Sora called back.

Janine came to a stop before them, bending over to catch her breath. She straightened up and looked at Sora with wide emerald eyes. "It's Miyako. She's going furious with the fact that her dress is still unfinished."

The auburn haired girl stood up, wiping her hands on her dress and holding a small bunch of roses. "Don't worry, tell her I'll be there in a moment."

"She also wants the entire house to be filled with flowers when the Queen and the Prince come tomorrow."

Samuel frowned. "But that would mean destroying a third of the garden, and not to mention an incredible amount of work for Sora and me."

The girl only smiled, "Don't worry Sam, leave it to me. I don't want you working with your health… and Janine, I'll go see Miyako right now."

The brunette sighed, "You take up too much burden, Sora."

"No I don't… I'm just earning my keep." She said, reciting the popular line her stepmother used often. With that, she gave a last smile and ran into the house.

Samuel and Janine watched as the girl made it into the mansion.

"You know Sam, Sora wasn't meant for this. There's something so much more waiting for her…"

The gardener sighed sadly, "I know Janine, and it pains me that she might never find it."

--------------------

**AN:** Remember when I said I wanted to update **two** chapters for every new fic? Right. I **lied**.

So… I know it's not much of a first chapter but just hang in there, good? Don't worry, the two will meet up in the **next** chapter!

Originally, I had another story in mind… but I was just suddenly motivated to write the **Cinderella** story, heh. I also had a one shot in mind, but then I decided to work on that while I worked on this, seeing as now it's no longer a one shot, but probably around three chapters long. Oh yes, I am fickle. (laughs insanely)

Thanks for taking the time to **read**, now take the time to **review**! Please?


	2. Dark Ruby

**AN: **You guys are the **BEST**. I was a little worried that people were going to send me emails telling me how sick they are of this story hehe… so **thanks**. Constructive criticism always **welcomed**!

As for **Miyako** being the stepsister… I don't know what I was smoking when I came up with that. Honestly though, I never liked the girl. I always wanted to slap her really badly since she had this uncanny ability to get on my nerves… maybe Sora will.

As for **Tai** and the others, I know I'm terrible but **Takeru** isn't Yamato's brother… actually I don't know if I'm going to add Takeru in. Tai will show up around two thirds through of this story. I know I know, it's a bit late to be adding in Tai, but I needed him for the role.

**Crazyamzy- **I'm so sorry that the characters are a bit unlike themselves, but it was only the first chapter and I'm trying to get them more in character, thanks for you comment! Miyako though… will always stay this way, muhahaha. If there's anything else, just let me know ;)

Anything else you guys are **curious** about?

**Disclaimer: **Digimon is not mine.

--------------------

**Chapter 2 –Dark Ruby**

"OW!! Are you trying to kill me?!" Shrieked Miyako.

The auburn haired girl at her feet said nothing, but continued to put pins on the bottom of the gown. It angered Miyako every time Sora didn't retaliate, every time she stayed silent. Instead of feeling triumphant, the girl's silence usually resulted in Miyako making a fool of herself.

Miyako clicked her tongue and began playing with her amethyst colored hair. Her hair was her pride and joy, long and exquisite to the touch. She glanced down at the girl by her feet and snickered, "Sora, Sora. You'll never find a suitor. No one would want a cinder girl as dirty as you. Look at your hair, it's a mess, and your dress is soiled. Maybe I'll be nice and let you be my servant girl when I marry."

The girl said nothing, didn't even so much as glance up at Miyako.

"Oh, and you're deaf too now! This just keeps getting better!"

Still nothing. Miyako glared, her eyes flashing dangerously. How could this… this _nobody_ be so unaffected by her words? Sora's dress was dirty and discolored, but everything else was a lie. Miyako had to admit that even with the way she was treated, Sora still kept good hygiene. Her hair was of a brilliant fiery color, alluring and enticing all at once, the smooth silky shine could only be surpassed by the soft downy feel of the auburn strands. What was worse than that, were her _eyes._

Sora had the most beautiful eyes of a unique color. They were dark ruby, like hidden jewels that with one look, could have any man entranced. For that very reason Miyako and her mother had forbidden Sora to look into the eyes of their visitors, only justifying it by saying that servants mustn't meet the eyes of the guests.

Miyako was incredibly jealous of Sora, and it quickly turned to hatred and loathing. The spoiled girl was determined to make her life miserable.

But, it wasn't as though Miyako didn't have suitors. The pampered girl had many men begging for her hand in marriage and she took the utmost delight in rejecting them all, one by one. She would only settle for one man, Prince Yamato. Soon, she was lost in her dreams of the blue-eyed prince.

"Miyako?"

Sora's voice startled Miyako but she quickly covered it up with a scowl. "What?"

"Your dress, I need to sew the hem. It would be easier if you took off the gown."

"Oh." Miyako complied and quickly changed into a dark velvet dress. With a look that said 'if you don't have the dress ready by the time I come back, I'll kill you', Miyako left the room and slammed the oak door shut behind her.

Sora was already started on the sewing and had ignored the look Miyako sent her. Miyako never thanked Sora for designing the dress and single handedly making it out of raw fabric, but Sora never cared. She loved sewing and designing dresses, it was a passion of hers. Humming an old tune her mother had taught her, Sora expertly wove the needle through the delicate fabric.

----------

"Yamato, it's the girl's birthday for God's sake!"

"Mother, I refuse to go!"

"Her mother is the widow of a good friend of your father and mine. It would only be polite if you made an appearance as well."

"…Just an appearance?"

Queen Natsuko sighed, seeing there was no way to argue with her son. "Yes Yamato, just an appearance, you can leave right after."

The prince thought over the plan. Really, he wasn't interested in going to some girl's birthday and he couldn't help but get the feeling that she would throw herself on him like so many other girls. But, Yamato knew that his mother was reluctant to go and she just wanted company for the time there.

"All right mother, I'll go."

Her mood brightened considerably. "Excellent! The carriage leaves in a few hours, be ready by then, dear."

----------

The house was bustling. Servants ran this way and that, rushing to perfect the decorations and place flowers in every room. Sora had gone out into the gardens first thing in the morning to cut and trim all of the flowers. Needless to say, the poor girl missed out on breakfast.

"Miyako, you look absolutely stunning," her mother commented as the girl stood in front of the full length mirror vainly. Sora stood in the back of the room, watching as the girl paraded her latest work. She had to admit, the spoiled thing looked rather pretty. The gown was made of a rich dark blue (Miyako had insisted that it match the prince's eyes) and elegant patterns lined the hem.

"I just know the prince will love it," Miyako thought dreamily.

"Of course dear." Lady Inoue said. Turning to Sora she glared, "When the queen arrives I do not want to see you anywhere near us. Remember that, do I make myself clear?"

The auburn haired girl nodded her head with a blank expression. A threat was not needed as Sora remembered what happened the last time she disobeyed her stepmother's wishes—the whip had left scars. Thought it was excruciatingly painful, Sora hadn't let out so much as a whimper. She had not screamed, and she did not cry, she refused to.

There was a knock at the door, prompting Lady Inoue to hiss angrily. "What is it now?!"

"The queen and the prince… they've arrived…" a timid voice answered.

Miyako's eyes widened as she checked her appearance once more in the mirror before quickly running down to greet their guests. Lady Inoue followed, giving Sora one last glare.

Janine stood outside the room and watched as the two made their way down the grand stairs, giving fake pleasantries and smiling so wide it was sickening. She stepped into the room to find Sora gazing out the window.

"The gown is lovely, even on that cow. You've done a great job, Sora."

"Thank you."

Silence followed and Janine walked over to stand beside Sora as she stared out the window. It was a view of the gardens, a hefty portion now bare. "I'll expect you to make me a gown ten times more beautiful than that one when I get married!" Janine joked.

Sora laughed, "I'll make you ten."

"Sora Takenouchi, I'm going to hold you to that." She paused before adding, "I have to go downstairs now, who knows what kind of demands that cow is sending out," with that, Janine left the room.

In all honesty, Sora absolutely loved it when they had guests. Since her stepfamily was always so strict about keeping the girl away from people, it usually meant that she had a free day. She smiled happily at the thought of finishing the book she had started reading and quickly went to her room to retrieve the item.

----------

"Your Majesty, your Royal Highness, thank you for coming." Lady Inoue bowed deeply in front of the royalty.

The queen smiled, "Happy birthday Miyako. How old are you this year?"

"Nineteen your majesty," the girl answered.

Queen Natsuko frowned, "That's odd… I could have sworn Haruhiko's daughter was only a year younger than Yamato. That would make her twenty-one."

Lady Inoue faltered, "Oh! Ye-yes… that would be my husband's first child. Sadly, she passed away before I was able to meet her."

Janine could have gagged right then and there. Sora was very much alive and well, and Miyako did not share the same father. Sadly, it was to be expected. Haruhiko had passed away so long ago that most thought Miyako was his daughter. Samuel and Marianne were possibly the only two who knew who Sora was, until the cook had told Janine a couple of years ago.

"Oh goodness, I'm so sorry." The queen said.

"She will always have a place in our hearts," Miyako said; _right next to the fireplace and the laundry._

"I almost forgot, Yamato and I brought a gift."

"You're too kind, majesty."

"No, no, we insist. Yamato," she prompted, watching her son expectantly.

The prince forced a smile but ended up with more of a lopsided grin—a very delicious lopsided grin. "Happy birthday," he said, presenting a small box to Miyako.

Her eyes lit up greedily and she opened the package with haste. She gasped when brown eyes came to rest on the jewel inside. "It's absolutely beautiful! I shall wear it everyday and remember that it was a gift, from you." Taking out the diamond and ruby broach, Miyako handed it to Yamato innocently. "Would you help me put it on?"

The blonde blanched, unsure of what to do. Momentarily, he considered stabbing the girl purposely, but quickly dismissed the thought when he realized she would probably make him kiss the pain away as well. Slowly, Yamato pinned the broach right under Miyako's shoulder, an odd and awkward place but far away from anything he didn't want to touch.

The girl frowned, it wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but it would have to do for now.

---

The meal was fantastic, every bite of the chicken perfectly seasoned.

"Our compliments to the cook." Queen Natsuko said kindly as her fork picked up more bits of food. She turned to her son. "Isn't it delicious?"

Yamato, who had remained silent for the majority of the time, nodded lightly. Though he had been at the mansion before, it was foreign to him. He had visited many, _many_ years ago, and Yamato wondered if the same girl he had played with in the gardens was still at the house.

He couldn't remember her at all, just the fact that he had the enjoyed himself immensely with her—that, and the fact that she had beautiful eyes. The color escaped him, but Yamato remembered they were stunning. They were only children then, and he had been hesitant to play with a _girl_—God forbid she would force him into something gruesome like playing house. She surprised him by suggesting a different game and the two had spent the rest of the time running around and getting incredibly dirty.

The prince shrugged, he couldn't remember her name or her face, but he was sure she had to be Haruhiko's daughter, the one who had apparently passed away. Yamato groaned inwardly, so much for having a good time there.

"Yamato?"

Yamato snapped out of his thoughts immediately only to realize that the plates had been cleared. He looked at his mother, "Yes mother?"

"Miyako would like you to cut the cake with her." The queen tilted her head in the direction of the lavender haired girl, standing by the cake with an expectant look on her face.

"I don't thi—"

"Oh nonsense, I would be honored if you would cut the cake with me." Miyako smiled slyly, "For my birthday?"

Yamato blanched, something he had been doing a lot since he entered the house. He consented nonetheless and walked over to stand awkwardly behind the girl, his arms surrounding her and coming to a rest on her delicate hands.

Miyako leaned back in the embrace, causing the prince to turn his head away and loosen his hold. He stopped when his eyes met his mother's, warning him to be kind to the girl. Yamato sighed and hurriedly guided Miyako's hands down onto the cake, with the knife in hand. After the first cut, he backed off immediately and gave the girl a small smile. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to know where the bathroom is."

The girl beamed, "I can show you where it is. Follow me."

"No. It's all right, I can find it on my own."

Miyako stopped mid-step with a light scowl on her pretty face. She pointed to the door. "Down the hall, take a right, second door to the left," she answered mechanically.

"Thank you."

As Yamato left the dining room, he could hear his mother compliment Miyako on her dress.

----------

Rays of light were reflected off of the glossy leaves in the gardens, and it seemed as if the gardens were glowing. It was a warm day, ideal for Sora to spend her extra time in the gardens. She sat in the shade of a large willow tree, lost in every word of the book she held.

A strange sensation told Sora that she was being watched, when she looked up her eyes met automatically with dark cobalt. The prince was standing a good distance away. He didn't glance away, or even move for that matter, but continued to stare at the girl. Sora looked down at her book, uninterested in anything to do with princes who stalked around and stared at people. Besides, she wasn't supposed to even be looking at him, and Miyako would be furious is she found out.

Sora wasn't afraid of her stepmother or stepsister—in fact, it seemed as if they were more frightened of her. Nevertheless, the auburn headed young woman never argued, simply because she didn't care.

---

Yamato found himself out in the gardens after he supposedly left in search of the bathroom. Though he couldn't remember the girl who he met there, the grand garden remained fresh in his mind. Glancing around, Yamato soon realized that he was not alone; he could make out a girl sitting under a willow tree, completely absorbed in a book.

Subconsciously, he began to stare at the woman, taking in every detail of her frail figure and silky auburn strands. She looked up suddenly, and as her eyes found his and Yamato realized he couldn't look away—but she did.

The prince mentally kicked himself, he must've seemed like a sexually deprived man with nothing better to do than go around and find young women to stare at. He headed towards her, determined to change her mind.

"Hello," Yamato greeted.

She glanced at him, never meeting his eyes and nodded. "Your royal highness should be indoors with miss Miyako."

He faltered, she made no move to stand, and the first words out of her pink lips were practically telling him to go away. So maybe they had started off on the wrong foot… "Yes… I was uh… just looking for the bathroom."

"Our house is big, but nothing compared to the palace. If you can find your way there, surely you can find your way here. I assure you, there is no bathroom in the gardens."

Yamato felt his face heat up due to embarrassment. Oddly, the young woman before him reminded him of the girl from many years ago, they were both incredibly independent and full of an irresistible fierceness. But that was impossible… that little girl had passed away many years ago according to Lady Inoue. He gave a small chuckle, "I've realized. I was just passing by and I couldn't stay away from the garden."

"Your highness likes… flowers?"

The prince smiled, he was making progress. "I appreciate the aesthetics."

Silence.

Apparently he _wasn't_ making progress.

"Could you… show me around?" he asked timidly, unlike his usual demeanor.

Sora almost agreed right then, she loved showing people around the gardens and sharing its beauty… but she really wasn't interested in showing the prince around and listening to him tell her how grand the palace gardens were. "You should really be getting back to the dining room," she said, daring to drop the formalities.

Yamato frowned; he _really_ wasn't making progress. "Could you answer me one question?"

"Yes?"

"Many years ago, when Lord Haruhiko was still alive, and his wife Toshiko as well… there was a girl here in the gardens. It may sound silly but I can't remember anything about her, save for the fact that I hadn't enjoyed myself that much in a long time and she had the most… beautiful eyes. I wonder… is she still here?"

Sora froze and felt a blush creeping up on her cheeks. "She's… no longer with us."

"Oh. Do you know who she might have been? I can't seem to remember her name."

"Her na—I don't know. Do you still want to look around the gardens?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, please."

Sora stood up and dusted herself off, pocketing the small book in her apron. She walked in front of the prince, careful not to meet his eyes and said mechanically, "Follow me."

---

"…and these are the irises," Sora announced, pointing to the delicate blossoms.

"They're my favorite." Yamato commented.

She smiled, those were her favorite as well… but there was no way she was about to tell the prince. Before Sora could think about what she was doing, she asked Yamato something that had been on her mind, "…does it get lonely?"

The prince stared at the woman next to him, confusion and shock written on his features. "Excuse me?"

"Does it get lonely?" she repeated softly.

"…yes."

"I thought so."

"What?"

"You don't have any brothers or sisters and live in a impossibly large palace with hundreds of servants at your fingertips. If you're anything like how I think you are, then you're truly lonely. Servants and money form a high life, but you yearn for nothing more but people to listen to you—to be genuinely interested in what you have to say and not see you as a crown. You, Prince Yamato, are in search for a friend, perhaps even more."

Yamato stared at her with his mouth hanging widely open, dumbfounded by not only the woman's bluntness, but also her accuracy. How could she possibly know so much after such a short time? Slowly, his mouth closed and the corners tugged into a smile. "You know exactly who I am, but now I must know, who are you?"

"I'm a servant in this house, nothing more."

"I highly doubt that. Your demeanor is nothing of a servant's. You're educated, you can read and you've stopped addressing me formally—something a mere servant would never dare to do. You have no fear, but instead, you seem more independent and bold than any woman I have ever encountered. …Just then, you said 'our' house. Now tell me, would a servant call a mansion like this one their own."

"I don't see why not."

"Tell me, who are you?" He paused, putting two and two together, "You're the girl aren't you?"

"Which girl, highness?"

"The girl who was playing here in this very garden many years before."

"That's impossible."

"Why?"

"I've never met Lord Takenouchi."

"…what is your name?"

"I haven't asked you for yours."

"But that's absurd! Everyone knows my name, I just want to learn yours."

"SORA!"

The two turned to look at who had called. Miyako was stalking toward them with a quickening pace, her face completely flushed.

Sora sighed as Miyako got closer, so much for not letting the prince know her name. For once, she was trying to help her stepsister, but instead the girl had ruined it with one word. Sora glanced at the prince, and her eyes met his.

He was smirking smugly; obviously he had caught her name. When Yamato saw her dark ruby eyes, there was no doubt in his mind that she had to be the same girl. Before he could say a word, Miyako had grabbed the girl.

Her palm met Sora's cheek with a resounding smack. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

The auburn headed woman stayed still and clenched her jaw, willing herself not to do anything rash. "I was simply reading a book."

"You harlot! You were simply seducing the prince!"

Sora rolled her eyes discreetly, really, where did this girl get off on those thoughts? "I was not."

"_You_ will have my mother's whip to answer to."

"I don't think that's very reasonable." Yamato cut in.

Apparently Miyako had been so infuriated, she had miraculously forgotten about the prince's presence. She flushed even darker, "This servant has disobeyed orders; she must be punished."

Yamato simply smirked smugly, "I ordered this… _servant_, if that's what she really is, to show me around the gardens. You have such a magnificent garden, it would be a pity if I didn't get to see it."

"Ye-yes… but your royal highness, I would have been glad to—"

"It was more convenient."

"…"

Yamato stole a glance at Sora as Miyako stared at the ground, surprisingly, the girl looked only mildly interested in what the conversation was about and had her eyes fixated on a distant point in the opposite direction of where he stood. He couldn't help but chuckle, this girl was definitely unlike any other. "Did you come looking for me, miss Miyako?"

"Yes… the queen—"

"We're leaving then, good day _Sora_ and thank you for showing me around." He winked at the girl who smiled in return. It was the first smile he had seen from her that day, and he never forgot it.

--------------------

**AN:** I hope that was **better** than the first chapter, hehe. If anyone has any comments about the characters, then **please** let me know.

I forgot to mention, if you like this story, then consider reading the book **_Ella Enchanted _**by Gail Carson Levine,**_ Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister_** by Gregory Maguire, and watching the movie **_Ever After_**. Wow, talk about advertisement.

Any ideas are always welcomed!


	3. Irises

**AN:** The reviews… they really are such an inspiration to write. Thank you.

**Kuroi Black Nightingale – **Making an estimate… I'd have to say this story will last for about fifteen chapters, take or give a few. I'm so glad you like it.

**Crazyamzy – **I'm really sorry that I made Miyako a villain and I'm even more sorry that I doubt there will be a second villain. Part of the changes I made was that I just decided to keep it as one stepsister, though I really loved it in _Ever After_ when one of the stepsisters turned out to be really kind. Thanks for reviewing!

**Mrs. Ishida-to-you** – Yes! _Ella Enchanted_ rocked my socks and the movie was such _such _a terrible let down. Okay… maybe I don't have the right to say that since I didn't watch it, but honestly, I'm not a fan of Anne Hathaway and just watching the commercial turned me off. _Ella Enchanted_ was a beautiful, simply _beautiful _book and the movie was a horrendous twist… in my opinion of course. So glad you share the same view, lol.

**SallyGirl – **Really, while I was watching the show, I was completely appalled by Mimi and I can see why so many people put her into the role of the villain. But, after reading so many fanfics, I've come to like Mimi more and I've decided I like her best as Sora's best friend. Hehe, Mimi will _definitely_ make an appearance in this story, but it'll be later on. And yes, YES I'm so eager to read the next chapter of _Jumping the Fence_, so update!

**Again, thanks to all the reviewers and readers!**

**--------------------**

**Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.**

**--------------------**

**Chapter Three – Irises**

Sora lay on her bed, back bare, letting the medicine settle into the fresh wounds on her back. True to her word, Miyako had informed Lady Inoue of Sora's disobedience and the fiery woman soon found herself being whipped mercilessly. The bloody gashes on her once flawless back were all the evidence needed.

She sighed and adverted her ruby eyes to the window and the dark starry night beyond the glass. Most servants' quarters didn't have a window, but Sora had been fortunate enough to have a generously sized one in her room—then again, she was no mere servant.

Janine had sat by the bedside earlier, making sure Sora got all the attention needed. Very rarely were other servants whipped, but it seemed that taking the leather to Sora's back was a hobby of Lady Inoue's. Miyako had ensured plenty of chores for the young woman to complete the next day, little did she know that Marianne, Samuel, and Janine had already set out to finish the tasks.

The auburn headed female stared at the skies outside, a single question swimming in her mind. When Janine had been there moments ago, the brunette had asked a simple question: was it worth it? From the moment Sora spoke to Prince Yamato, she knew a whipping was to follow—but she continued. What had compelled her to spend time with the prince was a mystery to Sora. Perhaps it was the simple fact that he remembered her from so many years ago… his honest words, or perhaps it was the way she felt his eyes bore into her. His perfect, deep cobalt orbs…

Sora could have slapped herself—if the action didn't mean inflicting excruciating pain. She had just gotten punished for talking to the prince, and here she was, thinking about the color of his eyes, baritone voice, and golden hair that _really_ did put the most golden of daffodils to shame. Was it worth it? To spend even a minute in heaven and be lashed brutally for it later… Sora laughed, since when had she gotten so poetic? She buried her face in the soft pillow, closing her eyes and forcing sleep to take her away.

----------

The sun shone brightly on the young prince currently seated on a bench in the palace gardens. Yamato stared absentmindedly at the irises, a small smile playing at his lips. He wasn't able to describe it, but suddenly, everything seemed to be so much more beautiful.

"They told me I might find you here."

The blonde turned in the direction of the voice, "Good morning, mother."

"I hear you've been doing nothing but sitting here since you woke." Queen Natsuko took a seat beside her son and sighed, "How long have you been out here, Yamato? I was told that you did not have your breakfast this morning."

He shrugged, "I was here before the sun."

"Goodness Yamato, why?"

"I couldn't sleep."

The queen faltered, "I hear you were in the gardens yesterday, after you had excused yourself to go to the bathroom."

"Yes," Yamato replied, oblivious to the smirk on his mother's face.

"Did the _flowers_ attract your attention?"

"Yes."

"Were they pretty?"

The prince paused as his eyes darted to one of the willow trees. He stared at the shade with his piercing blue eyes, as if he tried hard enough, something would materialize. "Beautiful."

"Is it in our gardens?"

"No."

"Then…" Queen Natsuko held a finger to her chin, pretending to be thinking, "I suggest you go back and ask for it."

Yamato turned quickly to stare at his mother with wide eyes, receiving a wink. "Mother."

"Yes dear?"

"Do you believe that Haruhiko's daughter passed away?"

"…why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

The queen paused, choosing her words carefully. "Lord Haruhiko was widely known as 'a handsome man of fire'. Fiery hair and the eyes to match were his special traits, a rarity." With a laugh, Queen Natsuko stood, "I'm off to look for your father. Men, always running wherever they please."

Yamato watched as his mother retreated into the palace and then returned his gaze to the willow tree. He knew exactly who was on his mind, and he also knew why; Sora was simply a story to him, nothing more.

----------

While the prince sat in the palace gardens, sorting out his thoughts, Sora was working in the kitchen. During lunch, Janine and Sora both helped Marianne in the kitchen, preparing and serving the dishes.

"One day Sora, you'll be living somewhere grand and you won't have to do this anymore." Janine mused.

The auburn haired woman laughed, "When it comes true, I'll be sure to take you with me."

"Don't forget the cook!" Marianne chimed in from the other side of the kitchen where she had been listening in to the two's conversation.

Sora smiled, "Never. I'll take Janine, you, and Sam with me!"

"Good. Remember that."

Janine sighed dreamily, "I'd give _anything_ to live in the palace and for once, not be the one doing the serving."

The redhead smiled, "I don't know Janine," thoughts of her encounter with the prince replayed itself in her head. "Don't you ever think you'll grow tired of it? Perhaps… it might even be lonely."

"Now, where did that come from?"

Sora shrugged, "I was just thinking…"

"About a certain prince?" Janine teased.

"No."

"Come now, don't lie to me, Sora. Sam saw you two, and even he says there was 'a spark'."

"From what, standing in the gardens and talking about flowers? I highly doubt he'll come back to ask for my hand—besides, Miyako would be absolutely livid."

"Don't tell me you think that cow would make a better queen. I'd rather hang myself than see her crowned."

"Then you'd better prepare that noose."

They turned to face Miyako standing at the doorway, looking incredibly smug. She glared at Janine. "You forget your place."

The brunetted bowed and stammered apologies before turning back to the cutting board, concentrating more than ever on the blade she held.

"Sora, I expect fresh flowers in my bedroom by tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Miyako."

----------

Hours later, Yamato was able to admit that maybe Sora was more than just a story. He sat under a willow tree, trying to remember everything she had said about the flowers. Queen Natsuko had always said that when one couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and spent every minute thinking about someone, they were in love. Yamato blanched, that was clearly impossible.

However, the prince had to confess, it was an extremely liberating feeling while they talked. Sora seemed to notice him for who he was, and not simply a crown, she saw right through him. Yamato laughed, any passerby would have deemed him insane to be sitting alone in the gardens and laughing, but that was the least of his worries. It seemed like ever since he was born, girls had been suffocating him up to the point that he considered telling them he was homosexual—but then the king and queen wouldn't be too pleased.

Now suddenly, there was a girl who was safe to say didn't want anything to do with him, and he couldn't stop thinking about her.

----------

The irises were hard to resist as Sora sat in the gardens, admiring the way the petals fanned out elegantly. As a child, she loved playing the in the gardens, but had little interest in taking care of them—that all changed after her mother passed away. When Sora's mother passed away, the girl had dedicated most of her time to keeping the gardens as perfect as her mother had kept it.

The sun was setting and the sky was filled with a wide array of blues, purples, and oranges. Kneeling down slowly due to the fresh wounds on her back, Sora collected some of the delicate flowers. She sighed; the day had gone by so quickly and yet, not much had been accomplished. Then again, wasn't that her life every day? So why was she feeling so discontent now? After years and _years_ of serving her stepmother and her stepsister, why would this day make any difference, why would she feel so unaccomplished on this day?

Sora's mind filled with questions as she made her way up the marble stairs in the mansion. Subconsciously, the woman had walked down multiple corridors and to come upon Miyako's bedroom. She knocked and waited for an answer before entering the large room. Sora's stepsister sat by her vanity, combing her long lavender hair with care.

She glared at Sora, watching every step that the auburn headed woman took. "About time, I was beginning to wonder if you needed another whipping."

Sora said nothing but worked quietly as she placed the flowers into one of the vases she had prepared. Moving to walk out the room, she stopped when Miyako spoke up.

"What flowers are these?"

The question surprised Sora and she turned to see her stepsister standing by the vase. It was possibly the first time Miyako had spoken to her without any insults. The auburn haired girl smiled, "Irises."

It was then that Sora realized she had picked Yamato's favorite flower.

**--------------------**

**AN:** WOW! What a completely pointless chapter! I must update the next chapter soon to make up for this! If everything works out, things should actually start happening starting from the next chapter.

You know you want to leave a **review**. Yes?

**Note: **I know I have this terrible inability to write two fics at the same time but I really, _really_ want to start something else. I haven't lost interest in this story, but it's just that I can't wait to update something else either! I went through about more than ten ideas during Ishida High and I don't want to wait for this fic to finish before I post something else… hm…

If I do start something, it'll be a short, short story… hopefully. And… it'll most likely be another high school story that I've been dying to write, I can't help it, high school fics are so fun to write!


	4. The Markets

**AN:** You guys rock!

**TheLadyKnight: **(I know your name doesn't have the caps, but I couldn't resist.) You're just _awesome_.

**Crazyamzy: **In the second chapter, while Sora was talking to Yamato, he mentioned that irises were his favorite. ;)

**Chikin Wang: **I do have an obsession with describing hair! Lol, thank you so much for your review.

**Pyrodragon304: **Yes, I realize it's your email ;) I hope you have a clearer idea of Janine in this chapter. If it isn't enough (because honestly it isn't), I'll be sure to add some info about her in the next chapter. Thanks for the review!

**Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.**

* * *

**Chapter Four – The Markets**

After a couple of days, Sora and Janine made their weekly trip to the markets. The community was always buzzing and bursting with energy; one of the reasons Sora loved it so much. The stands were filled with fresh fruits, vegetables and other random crops. A few times, the two girls would even sell some of the flowers from their gardens—of course, Lady Inoue and Miyako were never told.

Everyone who had met Lady Takenouchi remembered her and had fond memories of the woman. But Sora bore little resemblance to her mother and no one recognized her. Sora's father was rarely home, much less found in the markets.

"Cherries!" Janine's eyes lit up at the red berries.

The redhead laughed at her friend's childlike glee. "We won't be the ones eating them."

"Then we must buy a _ton_. Even they can't handle that much, they'll have to let us eat them!"

Unwilling to crush Janine's high hopes, Sora only nodded. "Then let's bring some home."

"A _ton_, Sora. Not some."

"Okay, okay, then let's bring a _ton_ home."

"You know… maybe you should consider growing some fruit in the gardens, not only flowers."

Sora paused, considering thing suggestion and gave an approving smirk. "I think we can do that."

"What else is on the list, Sora?"

"Fruits, vegetables, meats…"

"Oh. How about the apples too then? Oh! And the peaches! And, and—"

"Janine, have you realized that we'll be the only ones carrying everything back?"

"Oh…right." The brunette turned to face Sora with a hand on her hip. "This is insane. We have an incredibly huge garden and yet, we have to come out and buy fruits and vegetables! Why _aren't_ there any fruits and vegetables in the gardens?"

"There's fruit."

"What? Where?"

"We have apple trees."

"Really! And here I was, suggesting we waste money and buy the darn fruit."

"Oh Miyako doesn't like apples, but they were my mother's favorite."

"You know Sora, for someone who's abused by those witches, I think you understand them better than anyone else."

Sora only smiled.

-

The butcher shop was one of the busiest shops there were. Filled with eager carnivores each shouting their demands, Taichi Yagami was resisting the urge to throw a pig out the door and watch the customers attack the meat.

"Yes Ma'am, and how may I help you?" The man asked, putting on a charming grin.

The woman giggled and attempted to twirl her stringy hair, an incredibly amusing and yet revolting sight all at once. "Five pounds of pigeon meat and two pounds of pork."

Taichi packed the meat quickly and handed the bundle to the enthusiastic woman. She paid and before she was able to bat her eyelashes, she was pushed out of the way. At a glance of his new customer, a genuine smile made its way onto Tai's lips.

"Sora!"

She laughed. "It looked like you needed some help."

"God yes, that woman was amazingly… creepy."

"How are things going?"

The young butcher held his arms out, motioning to the throng of people awaiting their share of the meat. "A bunch of carnivores they are, one day I'll sell out of everything and they'll be forced to kill me off as a substitute."

"Can I have the shop?"

Tai glared at the woman before him. "After all these years Sora, I thought you'd care more," he said in a feigned hurt tone. Taichi had been Sora's childhood friend since Lady Takenouchi was still alive. He and his sister Hikari were the only people outside the mansion that knew of Sora's past. Though the little girl was born after the woman passed away, Hikari just _knew_ everything. It wasn't a grand secret to be brought to the grave with, but it was simply rarely mentioned.

"I'll care _after_ I get the shop. Where's Kari? Shouldn't she be helping you?"

"The little thing has run off with that fellow…"

Sora gave a laugh as Taichi narrowed his eyes at absolutely nothing. "Takeru? He's such a cute little boy, who wouldn't want to run off with him?"

In return, she received a low growl.

"Don't worry Tai, they're only what, nine? I highly doubt they'll be _doing_ anything soon."

"Soon!"

"Two pounds of chicken please."

"Don't change the subject!"

"Two pounds of chicken please."

"…yes ma'am."

-

Sora left the shop with a smile on her face. Janine was waiting for her.

"Sora Takenouchi I know that smile!" The brunette called.

"What smile?"

"_That_ smile. How could you? The prince will be devastated!"

"Janine, there's nothing going on between the prince and I, and Taichi is like a brother to me, anything more would be… awkward. Besides, I've never… been in love… so how would you know what my smile meant?"

"I guess… so, what's next?"

Sora blinked, Janine was a very… random… thing. "Uh… oh, Miyako wants me to buy her a new bracelet or some trinket."

"Really Sora, you're too kind. I think that most of the things in Miyako's possession are items which you have bought."

"I don't mind. I'm not allowed to wear such things."

"You even designed that dress for her! The one she wore when the prince visited."

"Think of it as a birthday present. Besides Janine it was fun, designing the gown."

Janine sighed, "Why do you put up with this."

In return, Sora gave a genuine smile, "Because I don't _need_ it. Miyako on the other hand, cannot live without it. I am content with my life, Janine."

"That is because you haven't fallen in love yet."

"What?"

"Just you wait, as soon as you fall in love, you'll be content no more."

"You sound as if you speak from experience." Honestly, it wouldn't be surprising. With her soft brown hair, pleasant features and curiously bright green eyes, it was a wonder why a man didn't come and sweep Janine right off her feet.

"Perhaps," she answered, a smug smile playing at her rosy lips.

Sora threw her head back and laughed, "If that is the case, then I hope I never fall in love!"

"That would be a shame."

Turning, Sora met cobalt. "Oh, your Royal Highness!" The girl moved to bow, but ended up with an awkward bend of some sort with the baskets she held. Janine followed suit, suppressing a giggle at her friend's movements.

Yamato chuckled, "That's not necessary. I'm nobody in particular today." He motioned to the baskets and bent to take them from Sora. "Here, allow me."

She stepped back immediately, "No. That would be highly inappropriate."

The prince sighed, running a hand through his untamed hair. "Please don't treat me any different, I'm just Yamato today."

Sora shook her head, letting her auburn hair flare out and gleam under the sun. "Whether you are a prince or another servant, I wouldn't ask anyone to carry my burden."

Janine sighed softly. "It's true your highness, Sora has never asked anyone to do anything like that. We usually have to force her down to even let us."

Yamato smirked at the girl, currently looking anywhere except at his eyes. "Lovely."

The word caught Sora's attention and she turned to stare straight into his deep blue eyes, which proved to be a mistake for soon she realized she couldn't look away. "What?"

Yamato's smile grew wider when Sora turned to face him. "You must be hearing things, I didn't say a word," he teased. When his eyes began to water, Yamato realized he had subconsciously willed himself not to blink. The dark ruby orbs held him, and he found himself wishing to never break away from her eyes.

Of course that was impossible.

"Since you were so kind as to show me around the gardens, allow me to repay you by taking you to the palace gardens." Yamato suggested.

Sora frowned, "If you ask to be treated as a peasant, then I suggest you don't try to lure girls in with your riches."

Janine gasped loudly from behind the redhead. "Sora!" she whispered in a hushed tone.

Yamato's rich baritone voice rang with laughter, surprising the girls. "You really are different." He bowed, so low that one would have thought he was trying to look up Sora's skirt—if her skirt didn't reach the ground. "My apologies, but really, I'd love to show you the palace gardens."

She smiled, "I have chores, but I'm sure miss Miyako would be thrilled."

Yamato's face contorted into something between a sneer and a smile, but astonishingly still managing to look quite handsome. "That's… quite all right. I'll just… help you two with your market… duties."

"Sora, I'll just go… do some stuff." Janine offered, clearly intending to give the two some 'private' time.

Sora rolled her eyes with a smirk, "Janine, don't go anywhere. If the prince wants to come, he can come."

She turned, taking Janine's arm and leading the way to one of the stands selling jewelry. Something stopped Sora in her tracks and she turned to the prince who had grabbed her other arm. Something in her jumped and Sora inhaled sharply as he leaned forward, closing the gap between their faces.

With his lips dangerously close to her ear, Sora could feel Yamato's breath as he spoke. "It's Yamato, _just_ Yamato."

"O-okay-I mean, yes," she stammered, and cursed her skin as she felt herself heat up. The prince pulled away and Sora looked up to find him smirking smugly. "Janine!" She called out to the other girl, quickly turning away from Yamato to chase after her.

-

Janine was standing by a vendor who was selling random pieces of jewelry. She pointed eagerly at a couple of the items. "Sora, buy one for yourself!"

The redhead frowned, "Stepmother would hang me if she was to find out."

"No one will tell her."

Sora smirked, "Janine, you're so… devious."

"Will you buy something for yourself then?"

"No."

The brunette pouted, "But whyyyyyyyy."

"I don't need it, remember?"

"All right… let's just buy something for the cow and go home." She paused, seeing Yamato walk up beside Sora and gave a sly smile. "I think I should go home first. Have fun, Sora!" With that, Janine ran off—and got absolutely nowhere. Sora had caught her like lightning and had a death grip on her arm. "Sooooooooooooora," Janine whined.

Sora narrowed her ruby eyes, "I know what you're doing, and you're not going anywhere."

"Fine. Fine. But it's such a pity."

"You're right about one thing, we should get this done quickly and return. We've wasted enough time."

"A little harsh aren't we?" A deep voice teased. Yamato turned and gave Sora a dose of his dangerously irresistible puppy dog pout; it never failed—until now.

She gave a small twitch of a brow, "You look pathetic, don't do that." Then, glancing down at the small display, she pointed to a thin gold bracelet with small rubies. "That one is nice. Let's take it, Janine."

Janine gave Sora an odd look. On any other day she would spend a great deal of time finding something that Miyako would like. Most certainly, she would ask for the price. But today, she was hasty and almost eager to leave the prince. "All right. Is that it?"

"Yes—" Sora's voice was caught in her throat when her eyes fell upon a small necklace. It was a beautiful necklace, simplicity and elegance molded into one small silver design of a heart. For a second, she considered doing as Janine suggested but stopped herself. "Le-let's go."

Before any of them knew what was happening, Sora had paid for the bracelet and took Janine's arm, dragging the girl through the people in the direction of the mansion. As if suddenly remembering something, Sora turned around, and gave Yamato another one of her dazzling smiles.

He blinked and she was gone.

Yamato stood by the vendor, confusion written on every bit of his handsome features. He couldn't help thinking, was it something he said? The vendor's light chuckle broke the prince out of his thoughts. "Don't worry Your Highness, I'm sure she fancies you."

Yamato's eyes widened before he flushed, his ears turning a deep cherry red. Looking around desperately to change the subject, his sapphire orbs noticed the same small necklace that Sora had her eyes on. She seemed incredibly drawn to it, and he was suddenly filled with an overwhelming desire to give the fiery woman a gift. Yamato pointed to the necklace, "That necklace, I'll buy it."

The vendor smiled, "Excellent taste Your Highness. The crest of love."

* * *

**AN: **Remember when I said **Taichi** wouldn't show up until much later on? I lied. And as you can see, I just couldn't keep away from adding **Takeru** into the story. Age differences vary.

Since I seem to love advertising so much, I've decided to keep it up! _NUMB3RS _is a new show on CBS and it's just got me hooked. If you like shows like _CSI _and_ Law and Order_ then go check out _NUMB3RS_!

Fridays at 10pm (eastern time) on CBS.

If I told you it was my birthday, would you **review**? (Don't worry; it's not my birthday.)

One more thing, I understand that the crest of love isn't silver at all, but I had to change it. Honestly, I'm not too fond of the original plastic-y looking design. As long as the same symbol is used, it's all good ;)

hm... seems that they've changed the QuickEdit thing again... it's **incredibly** annoying.


	5. Accusations

**AN:** I can't believe it's been more than twenty days since I updated! Lol, I'm glad no one sent me emails telling me to update, hehe… I always thought that I updated… last week or something, hm…

**Loveophelia (Koori-chan): **you must write your Cinderella story! You must you must you must you must you must! I love your writing so much and it's always so enjoyable to read. Your stories are inspirations and I'm sure you'd write a Cinderella story ten times greater than mine! I used to really hate Mimi, but after a while, I've realized she's not bad at all. Besides, I really can't stand Miyako. I'd love it if you wrote your story, especially with Miyako as the evil one as you planned to do ;) it would be fantastic. Btw, I love your new pen name.

**Shadowcat: **Lmao, I do lie a lot, don't I? Can't help it, just always changing my mind, hehe…

**TheLadyKnight:** lol, honestly I had no plans for Janine, just kind of wrote her as I wanted to. Can't help it if I'm always hungry, heh… ;)

Thanks to everyone that read! 

**Disclaimer: **Digimon is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter Five – Accusations**

"You'll meet a fiery young woman who will change your life, your views and your thoughts. In return, she'll receive something she's never had and you will open her eyes…"

Yamato groaned as the figure faded away in his mind. He opened his eyes, regretting it immediately as the intense rays of light burned the sapphire orbs. By the looks of it, Yamato had slept in far past his usual daily routine. A small smile made it's way onto his lips, he couldn't remember when was the last time he _didn't_ wake up at the crack of dawn.

As for the figure in his dream, he knew exactly who it was. The woman from the markets many years ago had been seen a few times in his dreams before, always talking in only half complete details. Why couldn't these soothsayers just talk like normal people? Why couldn't she just tell him who it was and where to meet the 'fiery young woman.' The prince clicked his tongue in annoyance, _hmph soothsayers._

It didn't matter, he never believed in them anyway. As Yamato stretched and began to dress, he noticed the tray of now-cold breakfast set neatly on a nearby table with a vase of roses, which he had asked the servants to prepare. The servants must have tried to wake him, but he wondered why he didn't wake. Yamato was usually awake even before they reached the door.

Leaving the cold food, the prince made his way down to the kitchen, smiling at the servants in the halls as he passed. There was a new aura about the prince that day, a special bounce in his step or a twinkle in his eyes so to say. Queen Natsuko watched with curiosity as her son walked down the halls, looking incredibly rejuvenated and… even cheerful. "Yamato!"

Yamato turned immediately at the sound of his voice and bowed to his mother, "Good morning, mother."

The good-natured queen laughed, "It's hardly morning anymore. Your father thought you might have decided to run away from home. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, very well. Was it you who told them not to wake me?"

Yamato's mother smiled widely, "It's so rare to see you sleep so peacefully." She paused, before continuing with a hint of annoyance in her tone. "Your father has invited the daughter of one of his good friends to come stay for a few weeks. Catherine Grant, do you remember her?"

Yamato frowned, he remembered the girl very well. He had met her when they were children; she was a horror. Who knew such an adorable little girl with light brown hair and innocent aquamarine eyes could be such a pain? All Catherine ever did was complain… and brag… and act like a spoiled selfish girl… and try to kiss Yamato like all the other girls. "Yamato I'm scared, hold my hand?" "Yamato those flowers are so pretty! Pick me some!" "Yamato, do you think I'll make a good queen?" He could still remember her high-pitched demands and fantasies. "Catherine... yes."

Natsuko laughed quietly at her son's expression. "She'll be staying for a few weeks, be a good boy, Yamato." The queen smirked, she knew her husband was trying to force the two together, which needless to say, was completely a gift to the young miss Grant. Queen Natsuko had always been a great judge of character, and she never liked the girl from the moment she laid eyes on her. "You should greet her at very least."

Almost as if on cue, a sickeningly sweet voice rang through the halls, "Prince Yamato!"

The prince blanched and before he could even turn to face the speaker, he was tackled around the waist. Catherine wrapped her arms firmly around the man and buried her face into Yamato's shirt, "I've miss you! Did you miss me?"

With a nasty little twitch of the eye, Yamato was just about to answer honestly before he caught the look the queen was giving him. He sighed and replied monotonously, "You wouldn't believe how much."

Catherine finally released Yamato when he began to cough and sputter from the lack of air. Hadn't this girl ever heard of _bowing_ before royalty? Not tackling them like an asylum inmate. When she stepped back, Yamato got a good look at the young woman. She was slim, and filled out her dress in the right places. Her light chestnut hair was healthy and silky, her aquamarine eyes large and bright. Catherine Grant had definitely grown to be very beautiful.

Yamato frowned. Though she might be beautiful, he knew it was only skin deep. There were two types of beautiful in the world, physically and mentally. On rare occasions would the two merge successfully and produce someone with glowing beauty… someone like Sora. The prince decided that Sora possessed a type of beauty that haunted people, something that they could never forget whereas Catherine had a type of beauty that was purely superficial, something that would soon lose its essence.

When the prince snapped out of his thoughts, he realized that Catherine had an eager smile on. Mentally cursing himself, he realized it was only because as he was thinking about a red haired maiden, a lazy smile had made its way onto his lips. He must've sent the wrong message to Catherine.

Suddenly forgetting the fact that he hadn't eaten, Yamato bowed politely and excused himself. "Please forgive me, but I must go."

"Why?" Catherine pleaded.

"I um… I need to go… ride."

"I can go with you! Wouldn't that be so romantic?"

Yamato's face blanched again; Catherine was so blunt it was both annoying and… well… annoying. He looked to his mother for salvation.

Queen Natsuko rolled her eyes at her son and took miss Grant by the arms, "Catherine, have you seen the gardens, they're absolutely beautiful."

With their backs turned, Yamato sprinted down the halls, surely breaking all sorts of speed records around the world. He finally found his way to the stables, panting hard but unwilling to stop. Saddling up his white stallion as if his life depended on it, Yamato was miles away before Catherine could get to the stables.

"The floors, I want to see my reflection in the tiles! None of you will stop until this entire dining room is glowing. When you're done with that, move onto the ballroom. Only after that, will you be allowed to eat." Lady Inoue screeched loudly at the two girls busily scrubbing the floors on their hands and knees.

"Yes Lady Inoue," they replied together, neither of them glancing up until they heard the curt clicking of her heels fade away.

"Stupid cow's mother…" Janine muttered under her breath, prompting Sora to laugh.

"Don't you ever say something different?"

"Not when it fits the cow so well."

Laughing again, the auburn haired girl paused in her actions, moving to sit down on the shining tiled floors. "You hungry?"

"Sora! I missed breakfast!" Janine looked to her with teary eyes.

"Only because you overslept."

"Well… it was a good dream."

"Was he worth it?"

"God yes."

"Well it's your lucky day."

"What?"

Sora winked and pulled a small bundle from her apron. "Here, I saved some breakfast for you."

"Oh Sora! You're a saint." Janine whispered as she took the warm package into her hands.

Sora watched with amusement as her friend savored every bite. The servants of the house weren't allowed anything to eat past a certain time, and they were only allowed to eat three times a day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, usually the quantity was much less than the needed amount. By the looks of it, they wouldn't be having lunch either.

"You know Sora…" Janine spoke up, pausing to swallow the biscuit. "The man in dreams looked just like the prince, and the girl looked surprisingly just like you!"

The auburn haired girl shook her head and laughed, "I know you're making that up Janine."

"Okay, okay, but tell me, what's going on with you and prince charming?"

"What? Nothing."

"You little liar, I saw something in the markets!"

"You mean cherries?"

"…come to think of it, you should have asked him to buy some cherries for us."

"Janine!" Sora exclaimed, laughing loudly.

"There is no laughing while scrubbing! If you are laughing, you are not scrubbing!" A voice called from the halls.

The girls scrambled back onto their knees, picking up the rag and working the floors. Sora stopped when she felt something gently shoved into her apron. Taking out the small package, she looked at Janine with a raised brow.

"Half," the brunette replied casually with a wink.

"Wha—"

"I know you didn't eat breakfast Sora. Thanks."

Riding was something that Yamato could never grow tired of. The rush of the cool air, the steady pounding of hooves matching his own heartbeat, and the _speed_ was something that the prince lived for. At times, he'd take Squall out from sunrise to sunset to secluded sanctuaries deep in the forest. Of course lately, Prince Yamato hadn't gone riding as often, he just didn't feel the need to run away as he usually did. It was as if something was there, waiting from him. But now, it was a matter of life and death, Catherine Grant was the living embodiment of manipulation and deceit.

A few minutes later, when Yamato felt safe in the depths of the forest, Squall's speedy sprint slowed down to a light canter. The duo stopped by a small spring to rest before continuing on their way. Yamato had absolutely no idea where they were headed, but any place was better than the palace at the moment.

Letting Squall guide him to wherever the stallion pleased, Yamato gave an easy smile and began to hum…

"Miss Miyako, Miss Miyako!" A servant ran through the mansion, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Shut up you fool! I'm standing right here!"

The servant quieted down almost instantly and whispered something in a low tone.

"What? What is it! I can't hear a thing you're saying!" Miyako yelled angrily.

The servant was shaking by the time she was finally able to tell the girl what she had ran into the mansion to say. "The prince, he's here."

"WHAT!" Miyako screamed, before instantly clasping a hand over her mouth, realizing that he could probably hear her. In a whirl of velvet, Miyako was running off to greet their guest, muttering angrily about how the servant should have told her earlier.

Before entering the waiting room, the girl paused quickly by a mirror, fixing her appearance with vain before rushing off to give the prince her best smile.

"Your Royal Highness! What a surprise!" The girl exclaimed, bowing politely while keeping her eyes glued on the prince's.

Yamato forced a smile under her increasingly disturbing gaze. "Miss Miyako, how are you?"

"I feel absolutely wonderful now that you're here, Highness."

"Yes…" Yamato's eyes darted around every corner he could see, an uneasy awkward feeling settling in as he realized that the only ones in the room were Miyako and himself. Swallowing loudly he flashed the girl a grin before raising an arm to rub his neck, trying his best to seem casual at the same time.

"May I ask, what brought you here Your Highness?" Miyako finally asked, a wide smile on her face, obviously thinking that she had a good idea. She wouldn't be surprised if the prince knelt down and proposed on the spot.

Sapphire danced around the mansion, trying to catch a glimpse of an auburn headed girl. "My horse…" he answered absentmindedly.

Miyako's brilliant smile faltered at the obvious statement.

"Oh sorry, I meant to say—hey, that servant girl from the gardens, her name… Sora is it? Is she here?" Yamato didn't know what better way to ask for the young woman and rushed through his words, still looking everywhere his eyes would allow.

This time, Miyako's smile was completely wiped off her face, replaced by a menacing scowl. "Your Highness, do not worry, she has been punished for what happened, we're truly sorry that—"

"Punished?" Yamato's eyes grew cold and this time he stared right at Miyako.

"Yes—"

"Why would you punish her if she did nothing wrong!" He paused, regaining his composure. "I would like to speak with her."

Miyako fumed, if she didn't know better, it sounded ask if the prince actually _cared_ about the servant. That was preposterous. "The servant is out running errands."

Yamato frowned at the way Sora was referred to. "I'll be on my way, thank you for welcoming me, Miss Miyako."

For the first time, the lavender haired girl was too absorbed in something else to fawn over the prince. She brought him to the door and curtsied before turning and retreating back into the house quickly to where Sora and Janine were busily scouring on their hands and knees.

The two looked up at the sound of Miyako's demanding footsteps and gazed at the young miss with a curious look. "Is—"

Miyako cut Sora's words with a glare, "_You_ will come to my bedroom as soon as you're done with the floors. You will not eat until you see me." Then, almost as quickly as she had entered the dining room, Miyako left.

Janine stared at her friend with wide emerald eyes. "Sora, I don't like this…"

"Me either, but what can I do about it?" She turned to look at the brunette, a reassuring smile gracing her lips. "Don't worry, it'll be fine, what's a cow capable of, right?"

Hours later, the auburn haired woman stood in front of Miyako's bedroom, rapping lightly on the mahogany door with her aching knuckles. The door opened slowly, revealing the dark room, the only source of light being the small candle burning. Sora hesitated, glancing around the room for another being.

"What are you waiting for, get in."

The voice startled Sora, and she rushed into the room, spinning around to see Miyako closing the door slowly.

Now she was worried. Miyako Inoue was a girl who never _ever_ opened doors for anyone. "Miyako? Was there something you needed?" Sora asked calmly, moving to stand by the meager candle resting on a table.

A light laugh was heard from the spoiled girl and Sora reluctantly stiffened. Shifting her gaze around the room, her ruby eyes landed on a pair of dangerously sharp scissors sitting on Miyako's vanity. Whatever it was that Miyako had been planning, Sora wasn't about to wait around and find out. "Do you need anymore candles? Wait here, I'll go get—"

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

Furrowing her brows together in confusion, Sora watched as Miyako stepped closer to where she stood. "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," she answered coolly.

"Even now, you're lying to me."

"What in the world—"

"The prince stopped by today."

Unsure of where the conversation was leading, Sora glanced at Miyako, only to be shocked to discover a wild gaze staring back at her. Miyako might have been irrational and impossibly vain, but such a primal look was something Sora had never seen. "Good. Did you have fun entertaining him?"

"Don't give me any of that rubbish."

Deciding it was best for her not to speak at all, Sora stared expectantly at Miyako.

"Do you know who he asked for? _Do you know?_" She stepped closer, and though she was shorter than Sora, Miyako looked far more threatening at the moment. "You. He asked for you!"

Something in Sora's mind clicked and instead of feeling worried, she rolled her eyes in annoyance. Was this it? "Miyako, you're—"

"No! I know exactly what's going on. You've been planning this since the moment you saw him didn't you? Didn't you! You harlot!" Miyako raised her hand, but when she brought it down to meet Sora's cheek, the girl moved easily out of the way.

Sora had enough. She wasn't about to get slapped again over a wild accusation. "Miyako listen to me! Just because the prince stopped by and remembered my name doesn't mean a thing!"

"Whore!"

"Stop it! There is nothing going on between the prince and me!" Sora yelled, unsure if she was convincing Miyako or herself.

"Don't think for a second I'll believe that. I'm not that gullible!"

"Heavens! You are a cow! Look at yourself; you've become wild with jealousy over absolutely nothing! Don't you have a bit of dignity in you!"

"What did you call me! How _dare_ you!"

"I called you a cow, but I know you're hard of hearing so I'll say it louder, you're a COW!" If the atmosphere wasn't so malicious at the moment, Sora would have found it comical, standing in the middle of a room and yelling that Miyako was a cow.

"HARLOT!" Miyako lunged at Sora, arms out, ready to tear her to pieces.

In a whirl of auburn, Sora spun around and this time, it was her hand that met with Miyako's cheek. The room became deafeningly quiet, an awkward tension settling over the two. As good as it felt to slap Miyako, Sora hadn't meant to do it; it was just more of a reflex.

For a few minutes the two stayed still as statues, neither one daring to make a move. It was then that Sora realized that the scissor was missing from Miyako's vanity. Her eyes moved down to Miyako's hand, where sure enough, the blade gleamed back at her. Alarm and astonishment flashed through Sora; who would have thought Miyako would have been quick enough to reach the scissor without her noticing?

The door wasn't far from Sora, only a few steps, but then again, so was Miyako. As soon as the thought ran pass Sora's mind, the lavender haired girl lunged, seemingly more determined than ever to critically hurt something. At the same time, Sora moved for the door, only to be pulled back by a painful sensation on her scalp. Miyako grabbed the auburn strands with one hand, and wildly took the scissor in her other hand, chopping off the silken threads easily. She pushed Sora onto the floor and, proceeded by diving for the girl, scissor in hand.

Sora saw the blade lowering but made no move to get out of the way or block the attack. As much as she hated it, she was powerless. No matter which way she looked at it, punishment followed. If she struck Miyako again, Lady Inoue was sure to whip her until the leather met her bones. If she ran, Miyako would only continue in the insane state she was in and perhaps wreck havoc on more than just Sora. Hateful or not, she was still her stepsister, and if letting Miyako see her blood was what it took to finally end the madness, then so be it. Giving up, something Sora so rarely decided upon, she watched as the blade met the flesh just below her right knee.

The scissor was sharper than any of them thought, and Miyako easily tore Sora's soft skin from below her knee to a few inches above her ankle. A muffled cry was heard and blood came instantly, reaching Miyako's hands and bringing her back to reality. The girl backed away from Sora, as if she was infected with some incurable disease and dropped the scissor. She glanced at Sora, wondering why there was no scream and realized the reason.

Sora was propped on her elbows, her face contorted with pain and tears flowing silently down her wan cheeks. Her bottom lip had disappeared into the depths of her mouth and when it finally immerged, the amount of blood could have matched her right leg. Preparing herself for the blade, Sora had used her bottom lip as a gag to keep from screaming.

For a split second, Miyako was thankful that Sora hadn't screamed, but after another second, the feeling soon changed to disgust. There was blood everywhere. "Get out."

Sora narrowed her eyes, though a little grateful that Miyako was back to her less-likely-to-cause-critical-damage self. Her leg was throbbing, and when she made a move to get off the floor, blinding pain shot through her; it took every ounce of control for Sora not to scream. None of them wanted the situation to get bigger than it already was, no one else needed to get involved.

A white sheet landed on Sora and she touched it curiously. "What…"

"Use it and get out."

Though it wasn't the easiest thing to do at the moment, Sora smiled and carefully wrapped the cloth around her leg. Getting up slowly, she managed to make it to the door, while "accidentally" knocking down a few objects as she did so.

"If I hear so much as a word of this anywhere, I'll swear I'll—"

"Shut up. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone," Sora replied, supporting herself against the wall.

"Good. I don't think I have to remind you to stay away from the prince."

Through the blood and sweat, Sora rolled her eyes.

"He'll be mine, I promise you. If you ever go near him again, I'll work Samuel in the gardens until he dies of exhaustion and Janine, she'll sell for a high price, I'm sure of it."

Dark ruby eyes glared back at Miyako, never before had she threatened her friends. It was a new low, even for the selfish girl. The thing that scared Sora the most was that she believed her. Miyako wouldn't hesitate to do such things.

**AN:** Oh no! What's going to happen! I don't know! Hehe, don't worry, everything's going to work out. I'm still working on that high school fic, but if I post it and finish it before this, then my fics won't be in chronological order! I know, I'm crazy, hehe.

Please review! I like answering people's questions in the chapters ;)

**LynLin: **Thank you so much for catching the fact that I started calling Miyako Yolei, lol. I guess I got carried away. Thanks!


	6. For Better or Worse

**AN:** I'm going to do this without conflicting with QuickEdit. Yes… Sorry for the late update, I planned on updating last week, but I couldn't find a reasonable title for the chapter... stupid reason, yes, but nevertheless, my reason. For some reason, as I stared at the chapter today on my computer screen, this title just popped in my mind.

**LynLin: **Thank you so much for catching my error! I went back and changed the names, lol.

**Sorato-Takari: **Don't worry about it, not a stupid question at all, I probably wasn't clear enough and didn't explain it as much as I should have. Just read on ;)

**Chikin Wang: **LOL the skeletal system? I'm sorry that it was too graphic, I swear, it turned out a lot less graphic than I intended! Lol, promise I won't do it again without a warning. And I do love her hair! But, I thought maybe it was time for a change.

I'm really sorry to anyone who really disliked Miyako's out of character-ness in the last chapter. Hehe, what can I say, I needed her to do it… I know Miyako doesn't possess a violent nature even if she can get annoying, but just bear with me please. Making Miyako a villain, I couldn't really just have her be herself right? Hehee, thanks for everyone not complaining and killing me for it.

**Disclaimer: **Digimon is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter Six – For Better Or Worse**  
(Gosh, I have no idea where that title popped up from in my mind, but oddly, I found it fitting…) 

Pain. It was the only word on Sora's mind from the moment she moved to sit up. Sleep did not take mercy upon her; Sora was sure if she glanced into a mirror, the skin under her eyes would be dark and swollen. For most of the night, she kept doubting herself, rethinking her actions, and regretting some. Maybe the whole thing could have been avoided if she hadn't called Miyako a cow. Then again, who would have known being compared to a farm animal could make someone so furious.

Fighting back was out of the question, slapping Miyako had been risky enough. But through it all, Sora was glad her stepsister lacked the killer instinct. Working a man to death sounded like something she was capable of, but killing one with her own hands was unheard of—even after the events of the previous night. Even though Lady Inoue stood by her daughter during every argument, she would never forgive Miyako if she had become a murderer. Servant or King, it would tarnish the family name, something Lady Inoue would never stand for.

For that reason, for the Inoues' honor and pride, Sora did not scream out. Even if she did, who would come to her aid, Sam, Marianne and Janine? Sora would never put them in jeopardy. The redhead laughed, a miserable, choked laugh. Maybe Janine was right; she was too kind, foolishly kind. For the first time, Sora Takenouchi began to hate herself.

"Sora! Oh my goodness, what happened!"

"Janine, I'm fine." As if to prove it, Sora walked down the corridor with seeming ease. But at last, when the pain became too unbearable, she moved to lean against the wall, trying her best to look casual.

"Takenouchi, don't lie to me." Janine warned in a dangerous tone. Her green eyes clouded over and her usual carefree smirk was replaced with a scowl good enough to challenge Miyako's. "You're sweating uncontrollably, you're limping, your lip's bruised and cut, it's obvious you didn't get any sleep, and… you put your hair up."

Sora forced an innocent laugh, reaching a hand up to wipe away the cold sweat that had began to form. "What are you talking about, I put my hair up sometimes." It was a flat out lie. After being told once by Lady Inoue many years ago that she possessed wide shoulders and it would be best that she hid them, Sora never tied her hair up. It was absurd, she was a little girl but old habits died hard.

"Really, since when?" Janine continued to press.

"Since…"

"I've been here for years, I've never seen you put your hair up. Sora look at you, you can't even walk without bracing yourself against the wall. What happened last night?"

"Nothing." She moved again, trying her best to prop herself against the wall.

"Stop it Sora!" Janine rushed forward, wrapping one of the redhead's arms around her neck and supporting the weight. "Okay, okay, you don't have to tell me, but please don't do this to yourself."

"Do what?"

"Sora, stop it! Please."

She sighed, defeated. "All right Janine."

Up close, the brunette was able to see the tired semicircles under Sora's usually vibrant eyes, evidence of her lack of sleep. Worse than that, Sora's bottom lip was swollen and it became apparent that… "You bit yourself." It was more of a statement than a question. "Why would you do such a thing?"

Sora turned her head away, afraid Janine would discover anything else. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"How can I not!"

"SORA!"

The two winced at the sound of Lady Inoue's voice, piercing and demanding. "Cow's mother…" Janine muttered angrily.

"GET HERE THIS INSTANT!"

Emerald eyes searched Sora's features for any hint of what to do. "Sora?"

Infinitely grateful that the servants' chambers were on the first floor, the girl smiled calmly. "Help me get to the cow's mother?"

"Sure."

Lady Inoue screamed several more times before the two finally made it to the foyer.

"Janine, I didn't ask for you."

The brunette faltered from where she stood, a few feet away from the two. Sora had insisted that she stay a short distance away so Lady Inoue wouldn't get suspicious. "I um…" she struggled to answer.

"You wanted to see me?" Sora asked, bringing Lady Inoue's attention back to her.

"Yes… Sora." The skinny woman paused, noticing Sora's hair. She sneered, "Don't think that putting your hair up is going to fool me. Your cheap tricks won't work."

"What?" The color drained from her face and Sora's eyes darted to Janine, only to be met by curious worry.

"Miyako informed me of your cheap ways. Sold your hair, did you? Pathetic."

"I didn't—"

"How much did they pay for it? Amazing isn't it, someone would actually buy your hair. Such an odd color, I don't know what anyone could possibly use it for."

"But I didn't—"

"Where is the money!"

Sora's head was throbbing. Forming a fist with increasing difficulty, she managed to bite out, "I did _not_ sell my hair." It was apparent from whom Miyako got her stubbornness from.

"Really, then what happened, it magically disappeared?"

"I don't know, maybe it did or maybe you should ask your daughter about it."

Lady Inoue laughed shrilly. "Your father always did mention your… unique imagination. Obviously the result of too many bed time stories told about knights and magic."

"What— I am not delusional!"

"Get to your chores! I swear, I will search every corner of your bedroom until I find the money!"

"Search all you want but you won't find a thing!"

"You spent it all didn't you?"

"I don't know, maybe the faeries came and took them away!"

"How dare you!" Lady Inoue closed the gap quickly, hand raised, ready to strike.

Janine intervened quickly, tugging on Sora's sleeve lightly. "I'm sorry Lady Inoue, Sora's just tired, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."

"Sora, I want you to wash the windows, do the laundry, scrub the floors—again, clean the stables, polish every piece of wood in the house—"

"With all due respect, I think maybe it might be too much for Sora to handle."

"Good, then you can help her." With that, the woman walked away, head held high and posture stiff.

Sora collapsed onto Janine the moment Lady Inoue was out of earshot and looked up at her friend with concern. "Janine, you shouldn't have."

"Don't worry about it, just rest today."

"What? I can't! Did you hear all the chores I have to do?"

"Consider them done."

"Stupid girl, you can't do all of them by yourself."

"Well… I don't think she'll know if the floors were polished again or not, so that's one less chore!"

"Janine…" Sora protested, her eyes slowly beginning to close as a new groggy sensation overtook her.

"You need sleep, come, I'll take you to your room."

"…no…" It came out as a meager whisper and before any of them knew it, Sora was asleep on Janine's shoulder.

When dark ruby eyes flashed open again, it was well into the day. The sun was high, it's brilliant light reaching the fragile girl on the bed. Sora rubbed her head in frustration, trying to remember what had happened and slowly, things finally came back to her. Janine had forced her to take the day to rest, assuring the redhead that she would do all her chores.

She couldn't allow Janine to do her chores, but at Sora's state, there wasn't much she could do to help. Pandemonium played in her mind, painfully reminding her of the injuries she had sustained. Her inability to move only fueled her desire to escape and Sora soon found herself supporting her weight on the few pieces of furniture in her room. Going outside was not only what Sora needed, it was the more logical choice. Lady Inoue was sure to search her room, and Miyako found it absolutely amusing to occasionally burst into her room, trying to find any secrets she could use against Sora. If any of the two saw Sora in bed instead of working, they'd go mad.

A few minutes passed and Sora soon realized she had greatly underestimated the sensation of pain, and greatly overestimated her own stamina. She had been able to make it out the back door of the mansion to where the garden was. Reaching an arm out to a large maple tree conveniently nearby, Sora steadied herself and the dizzying swirl in her head.

Perhaps it was the fresh air, or perhaps it was a sudden hatred for the Inoues, but Sora was overcome with a great need for freedom. Even though it was just for a day, she would cherish it. The west and south of the mansion were surrounded by forest, a place that neither Lady Inoue nor Miyako ever dared venture into.

It wasn't the smartest idea Sora had ever come up with, but it wasn't the worst either. Though the forest was hazardous to a young woman with severe wounds, it also contained all the fresh air and beauty she needed. The tall trees and lustrous greenery reminded Sora of the fantasy books she had adored as a child. Even now, it was hard not to get carried away by the new scenery.

But the sharp sting sent through Sora's body from her leg brought her crashing back into reality. It was no fairy tale land she lived in.

While daydreaming (though it might have been due to the medicinal herbs she used), the redhead soon came to realize that she had traveled quite deep into the forest. The pins in her auburn locks had begun to loosen its hold, allowing a few short, damp strands to fall down and frame her delicate features.

Leaning against a strong oak tree, Sora reached down to lift up the hem of her skirts, just enough for her to check the bandages on her leg. She grimaced at the sight of the blood soaked cloths and began to seek out a place where she could stop to reapply her bandages.

She didn't have far to look, for soon, the sight of a small spring greeted her. Sora inhaled deeply at the clearing and couldn't help but smile. The trees that surrounded the spring seemed to glow an almost magical glimmer, and the various plants that had been fortunate enough to grow roots by the water were vivid with life. A place to sit wasn't a problem at all, as there were tree trunks arranged neatly around the spring. There was no doubt in Sora's mind that the small clearing was most definitely not something that had just coincidentally occurred naturally.

Sora stepped closer and soon came face to face with a brilliant white stallion. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who had found out about the little piece of heaven. The two stared at each other for a moment, her crimson eyes meeting the unique amber of the horse before finally, the stallion lowered its head, almost urging Sora to stroke its mane, which she did with little hesitation. It was such a beautiful horse, luxurious coat, strong amber eyes, and a soft ivory mane to match its coat. Daring to get closer, Squall nuzzled her cheek, making the girl laugh in delight.

"You know, he doesn't usually like strangers."

Sora, though a little startled, turned to face the speaker with a natural smile subconsciously forming on her lips. She continued to stroke the stallion's mane with one hand while bowing her head; she wasn't going to take the chance of curtsying. "Prince Yamato."

Yamato gave a devilishly handsome grin and bowed. "Lady Sora."

She furrowed her brows in confusion. "Lady?"

"There is no boundary of classes here. Here, I am Yamato and you are Sora."

The redhead stared at the prince before turning her attention back to the stallion. She almost believed him—if it wasn't for the smirk on his face that screamed "I-know-something." "Is this your horse?" Sora asked casually, stroking its ivory mane as she did so.

"How else could I have escaped here?"

"Escaped?"

"You've found my secret! What brings you here, milady?"

Sora's head began to swirl as she remembered why exactly she was at the spring and not at the mansion. Turning her head away from the prince instinctively, she suppressed a groan; heavens, she must've looked like a horror. "I uh… got lost." Too tired to make up excuses, Sora settled on trying to get to the neatly placed tree trunks instead.

Squall seemed to have a sixth sense, for before Sora could even make a move for the makeshift benches, the stallion led her there with surprising gentleness.

"Got lost, huh," Yamato said with a raised brow.

"Your stallion is beautiful, I've never seen a horse with such unique qualities," she said, trying to change the subject.

Luckily, Yamato understood her intentions and merely smiled. "Never seen a white horse before?"

"It's not that, we have two ivory stallions in the stables, but I've never seen one with such… pureness." Squall seemed to enjoy the attention Sora was giving it and decided to stay by the girl, allowing her to continue stroking it's coat from where she sat.

"I raised him myself. I used to spend a lot of time at the stables and when I saw Squall, I just had to keep him. He likes you."

"Squall huh? Well Squall, my name is Sora, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Squall lowered its head as if in greeting, prompting a laugh from Sora.

"Clever too. You know Yamato, he has gorgeous eyes," she held a finger to her chin, "kind of like you."

"What? Squall's eyes are amber, where I've been told my eyes are 'a deeper blue than the most beautiful of oceans, and clearer than any sky,'" he recited dramatically.

Sora rolled her eyes playfully, never bothering to look away from Squall in case Yamato could see her swollen lip. "I meant you both have amazing eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to a person's soul. I believe that."

Left speechless, all the prince could do was blush and smirk like a dazed child. "Well uh, you have really nice eyes too, Sora," he stammered out.

"I've been told that my eyes 'hold more passion than the greatest fires.' I don't think 'nice' would be the word to use."

Yamato blinked, and before any of them realized what was going on, they were laughing like a pair of maniacs in the middle of the forest.

A little voice in the back of her mind kept reminding Sora she really wasn't supposed to be talking to the prince, much less laughing with him. But when she looked at him, with his golden hair, sapphire eyes and dangerously irresistible smirk, all traces of resistance would disappear. Just looking at the prince made Sora feel so good about herself and as selfish as it seemed, she never wanted to let the feeling go.

Yamato moved to sit by Sora, only to frown when she wouldn't glance at him. He wanted to tell her that he went to look for her the day before. He wanted to give her the necklace he bought for her; he wanted to tell her about Catherine, he wanted to take her to the palace gardens. Sora had a type of power over Yamato that just made him want to tell her every secret he had, every thought that ran pass his mind.

The prince groaned, it must have been the spring that put those ridiculous ideas in his head. But as much as Yamato denied it, he dreamed about Sora's smile. A comfortable silence settled among the two, with Yamato staring up at the sky, and with Sora absentmindedly stroking Squall.

"I should return to the mansion."

"Why?"

"Miyako and Lady Inoue will be looking for me."

Yamato's features darkened considerably. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" This time, curiosity got the best of Sora, and she turned to look at the prince who had his head bowed.

"You were punished because of my persistence in the gardens."

"It's nothing; they probably would have found another excuse to whip me later on."

Yamato looked up, mouth open and ready to protest until he saw her lip. "What happened?" he reached a hand out, but it was instantly pushed aside.

"I really should be making my way back," Sora said hastily. Underestimating the pain once again, she moved much too quickly to stand and was instantly brought back down.

"Sora!" Yamato was on his knees beside her, holding onto her arm to support her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Making a move to stand back up, Sora silently cursed when she collapsed into Yamato's awaiting arms.

"Nothing?"

Her head was swirling and the cold sweat returned. "Really… nothing," Sora breathed out, while feeling her energy abandon her. Fainting in the prince's arms, no matter how handsome he was, was definitely not something she aspired to do.

Unfortunately, it was also inevitable.

* * *

**AN:** I know it seemed like Yamato didn't really notice Sora's new choice of hairstyle, but I'll go into more detail in the next chapter. 

So, this chapter was timely right? I think should get extra reviews for that, MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Okay, okay maybe not.

**LENGTH OF SORA'S HAIR. **Well, I was going to add it into the next chapter, but since so many people asked, it's shoulder length, hehe, not bad at all, no?

**advertisement:** Law & Order: Trial By Jury is FREAKIN' GOOD. Go watch! Fridays at 10/9pm on NBC. Unfortunately, it airs at the same time as NUMB3RS...

Jerry Orbach, RIP


	7. The Sanctuary of Chaos

**AN: **Can we say FLUFF? This chapter is nothing but. (that wasn't meant to rhyme…)

**Sabishi Tomo** – Miyako happens to play the villain in this story and so… I can't have her be kind. I apologize if you prefer a nice Miyako or if she's one of the characters that you favor. Thank you for your review!

**Disclaimer:** Digimon is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter Seven – The Sanctuary of Chaos**

Breathe.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Sora couldn't remember the last time she woke in a bed as soft and luxurious as the one she currently laid in. It wasn't just the bed that was amazing; it was the entire room. The walls were intricately decorated with various reds and covered with original pieces of artwork. Equally elaborate ornamentations covered the ceiling; gorgeous lush curtains were parted to the side, allowing the natural light to enter the room.

Sora's mind was an odd blend of confusion, fear, and yet happiness. There was something about the room that evoked a feeling of warmth and comfort.

"You're awake."

She turned to the door at the sound of the familiar voice. "Prince Yamato."

"How many times must I remind you to call me Yamato?" The blonde corrected as he made his way to Sora's bedside, looking dangerously handsome as usual.

"Is this—"

"The palace? Yes. After you fainted, I decided that it would be better if you stayed here." He smiled. "You've been resting for four days."

"Four _days_! Lady Inoue and Miss Miya—"

"Don't worry about them. You're not going back."

She stared at him, not completely comprehending his words. "I'm not…going back?"

"Sora," Yamato sighed and continued, choosing his words, "I don't know what happened in that mansion, and I won't force you to tell me either. But I very much doubt that you would hurt yourself like this." As he spoke, Yamato ran his fingers through her hair, causing her to pull back harshly.

Sora fingered her once waist length auburn hair, now reduced to barely shoulder length. The ends were choppy and uneven, but the texture remained lavish. Obviously, someone had taken out her pins; it wasn't the only thing that had been changed. Realization dawned upon her as the dazing sleep wore off; lifting up the down covers, she suppressed a smile when she discovered a silk nightgown hugging her body and fresh bandages expertly bound on her leg. The prince was too kind to her.

Yamato grinned widely. "Joe's excellent at his craft. He says you've been recovering superbly—in fact, you've been recovering faster than anyone he's ever witnessed. Look, your lip has practically healed."

Sora blinked and slowly held a hand up to trace the fading scabs of her lower lip. Yamato was right; it was practically gone. "Joe?" she asked.

"Joe's the doctor who has been coming in everyday to see you."

"Heavens; thank you. I'll have to thank Joe too."

The prince smirked; even in her condition, Sora did not forget to be polite. "You can thank him today. He'll be coming soon." Unable to hold back, Yamato reached out to touch her hair once more. This time, Sora did not pull back and his fingers entwined with the auburn locks with amazing gentleness.

It was okay—Sora decided then—to be touched by Yamato. It was okay for Yamato to see her whimper. It was okay for Yamato to see her cry. It was okay, as long as it was Yamato. When he was around, she would feel no pain, know no pain—a strange subconscious fact that even Sora hadn't noticed until then. She closed her eyes and relished in the comfort of his touch.

"I'll get this fixed. I promise." Yamato whispered, referring to the harshly cut ends of the auburn strands in his palm. Originally, the ends had been horrendously obtrusive with awkward waist-length strands interlaced with the newly cut. Sora had attempted to clean it up some herself, but alas, she had her limits.

"You've already done so much," she replied, eyes still closed.

"No, _I_ haven't. All I've done is bring you here and send for people."

Sora listened to the prince's words and opened her eyes calmly in curiosity. It almost sounded as if Yamato resented his status, his destiny. If she didn't know better, it sounded as if he deemed himself useless. Chapped pale lips parted as she made an attempt to speak—

"Uh, Your Royal Highness! I'm sorry, I should have announced myself, I should have—" A young man with surprising blue hair stood by the door he had just opened without warning. He looked down at the neatly tiled floors, his spectacles sliding down the bridge of his nose and threatening to fall.

Prince Yamato regained composure immediately and retracted his hand from the silken nest it had grown accustomed to. He stood. "Joe, don't be a fool, you didn't do anything wrong so you can stop apologizing now."

The lanky male bowed politely, "Thank you, Your Royal Highness."

Yamato sighed in defeat, there was no getting through to Joe. "Yes, yes." He turned to face Sora who was currently looking up at him with expectant crimson orbs. "Sora, this is Joe, most definitely one of the best physicians you will ever meet."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for looking after me." She greeted, offering Joe her hand as she had been taught to do so long ago by her mother. Sora's mother had always hoped her daughter would become an awe-inspiring lady; she would have been proud to see the woman Sora had blossomed into.

"The pleasure is definitely mine, and I wouldn't give myself so much credit, Lady Sora. Prince Yamato was the one who has been looking after you." The physician leaned forwards to whisper into Sora's ear, slightly more daring than his usual self, but Joe's patients were never considered strangers to him. "The servants tell me that he rarely leaves your bedside. The queen was beginning to suspect that the prince really ran away—or better yet, eloped with a beautiful maiden."

Sora couldn't help but laugh upon hearing Joe's words. She glanced at Yamato, whose feline hearing managed to pick up every word—and she only laughed harder. Yamato's usually calm physiognomy was twisted in concentration, trying to stop the blush from spreading. It was no use; the prince's face was beginning to resemble a pumpkin—a gorgeous pumpkin.

"Do you have any other patients, Joe?" Yamato asked.

Joe chuckled and took the hint. "Not another word, Highness, I'll take my leave as soon as I check on the lady's condition."

Sora's dark crimson eyes followed the movement of Joe's hands as he checked her bandages. "Please, Sora is enough. Call me Sora."

The doctor straightened up after a few minutes of inspection and smiled. "Well Sora, it seems that you're recovering very nicely. I'm sorry but there will be a scar, and even a limp perhaps, but you can learn to walk with it. As for moving around… as little movement as possible would be wisest but a walk in the garden wouldn't do harm either."

"Thank you, doctor."

"Joe. Goodbye miss, I'll return tomorrow."

Joe bowed courteously to the two and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Yamato stared at Sora for a long minute as she yawned cutely, drawing up the covers to her nose. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

She smiled sleepily. "Yes."

"Why don't you take a nap first, I'll call for food."

"Thank you, Prince Yamato."

He opened the door, turned to Sora and bowed. "Yamato. My name is Yamato."

"I can't call you that."

"You can, and I demand it be so."

"I refuse."

Yamato stumbled. Damn this girl was stubborn—

"I like Yama better."

"Pardon?"

"Yama. I think I'd like calling you that."

Silence stretched out between the two, their gazes never leaving the other. A slow grin found its way to Yamato's lips. "I'd like that too."

"Will you come back later?"

"Of course."

Yamato closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

"You're in love with her."

The prince turned to face Joe, who was currently leaning suavely against the corridor wall, arms crossed over his chest. Joe really was much more handsome than most people credited him to be. Yamato let out an exasperated sigh. "No, I'm not."

"Don't lie. We've known each other since our diaper clad times."

"I can't be in love with her. I hardly know her."

"Ah, but you always did believe in love. More than you were ready to admit."

"How—"

"I _know_ you, Yamato."

The blonde sighed tiredly, finally giving into the doctor's persistence. "I hate it when you're so polite."

"I can't exactly run into a room and invite you out to drink until we both regurgitate a year's worth of dinners."

They headed to the kitchen in silence, just two childhood friends. "How is she?"

Joe glanced at Yamato with a smug smirk on his lips. "_Who?_"

The prince glared. "You know who."

"Not in love, are we?"

"Not in love."

A pause. "It's very obvious she's been treated terribly. She's suffering from malnutrition; her hands are coarse and blistered; and still, she's healing at an incredible rate. Yamato, whether you love her or not, I trust you to not send her back to that house."

"Don't worry Joe, I might be an arrogant prick, but I'm not senseless."

Joe chuckled. "I should be leaving now," he announced.

"One last thing."

"Yes Highness?"

Yamato sent the doctor a glare before continuing, "Do you remember the Takenouchi family?"

"Faintly. I only remember Lord Takenouchi had the most unique red shading of hair and eyes."

"Doesn't it remind you of someone?"

He raised a blue brow, "But I thought the daughter died years ago."

"It would seem that was a lie."

§

True to his word, Yamato returned to Sora's bedside a short while later. He sat in an armchair he had pulled up to her bed, watching as she slept contently and torn between letting her sleep or waking her up to eat. God knows she needed both.

_Not in love._ He watched as auburn strands swept across her forehead and vibrated lightly in her breath. _Not in love_. He watched as her slender fingers twisted unconsciously around the blankets, pinching the soft fabric. _Not in love. _He watched as her chest rose with every breath she took.

Yamato began to sing.

At first it was a soft hum, but gradually evolved into a slow tune, the words clear and well written.

Sora wasn't sure which was better, waking up to the smell of hot breakfast, or waking up to the prince's voice. She had woken up the moment he had walked into the room; the mouth-watering aroma of breakfast teased her senses. Curious about what the prince would do, Sora feigned sleep. After many years of practice with the Inoues, feigning sleep had become a specialty.

She felt him close by, felt his beautiful cobalt eyes focused on her. It was an odd feeling, definitely different than knowing Janine was watching her; different than knowing the Inoues were carefully keeping an eye on her. Yamato's stare made Sora feel… content and… loved and…

Nervous.

She began to pinch the blankets lightly—an old habit. Seconds later, Sora sucked in a breath as Yamato's voice began to fill the room.

§

Breakfast was ridiculously delicious. Sora didn't know what to eat first as Yamato revealed the different delights from bacon, tea, pastries, to fruits, sausages, and eggs. Needless to say, she ate to her heart's content.

Prince Yamato never touched the food and instead, he watched her as she ate. Despite a few minutes of awkward silence and Sora's heart threatening to break free of her chest, an easy conversation began among them.

Sora listened to Yamato talk and responded with the proper reactions: a smile, a nod, a frown. She liked listening to him talk, and for the first time in many years, Sora felt free and fully able to enjoy conversations without the fear of being whipped as an aftereffect.

It was wonderful.

Yamato was chatting his heart out, talking about everything from the latest politics to the weather. "—but I think that it'll clear up soon, don't you? You have no idea what you're missing in the gardens."

Sora giggled lightly at Yamato's array of random words and glanced at the wall opposite the door—a wall in the shape of a semicircle, lined with floor to ceiling windows with a glass door leading to the small balcony overlooking the gardens. The skies were a musky gray, much different than the clear blue that had dominated just hours ago.

"Highness, could you open a window?"

Yamato frowned at the small request. "It's going to rain soon."

"Yes but please, just a little, Yama? I love the smell of rain."

He melted at the name. It was like a loving pet name and Yamato swore he was just about to do anything for her whenever she used _that_ name. "I warn you, don't get sick." Since the floor to ceiling windows did not open, Yamato opened the balcony door, just a little. "Pleased, milady?"

"Absolutely." Sora tried to rest further into the soft down pillows and smiled contently. "Yamato?"

"Lady Sora?"

She frowned. "I am not calling you Prince, why must you call me Lady?"

Yamato took a seat in the cushioned armchair once more and stared into Sora's crimson pools. "Because, Lady Sora Takenouchi, that is who you are."

There was no reaction in her face, much less in her eyes and Yamato almost began to wonder if he had made a mistake. But then she spoke, "I suppose it is obvious. I don't see why the Inoues try so hard to deny it."

Yamato blinked. Sora's sudden change in attitude was surprising, and he loved it. He wanted her to be more outspoken, less polite, more carefree, less worrisome. "You have claims to the land and the mansion, they're… afraid of you."

She smirked. "Ironic isn't it?" Then Sora paused and turned to face the prince. "How much do you have figured out?"

"Your father died, Lady Inoue is your stepmother, you _are_ Lady Sora Takenouchi…"

"My mother died first, Prince Yamato. I was eight when she died of an illness. My father was constantly away, doing his job, and sleeping with countless whores, but my mother never despaired. In the span of two years, my father managed to run through two wives, until he finally passed away during the third marriage, to Lady Inoue. Miyako is my stepsister, no blood relation. Soon after, when I was eleven, Lady Inoue decided I should've been 'earning my keep' as she put it and I was put to work. It's been like that since. I can't remember the last time I was called Lady, until you."

Yamato listened to Sora's story, focused on every word. She had shortened the story quite a bit, and he wanted details. He wanted to learn everything about her. "Sora…" With one quick movement, Yamato scooped Sora into his arms. He had been so selfish, complaining about his duties while there were people who suffered daily, people like Sora who had suddenly become perfection in his eyes. Her strength, humor, anger, wit, coy, shyness, honesty, and even the vexing way she had stubbornly refused to call him by his name—he loved it all.

"Yama, I'm fine. You're about a decade too late."

He laughed, still not wanting to let go of her.

"I must be filthy. It's not proper for you to—"

"No. Anything is proper coming from you. _You_ are perfect."

"…mato… Yamato… Yamato!"

The prince's eyes widened at the sound of the familiar painfully high voice, but before he could hide in the closet or out the balcony, Catherine Grant charged into the room.

The couple broke apart immediately (or more like Sora pulled away from Yamato). They closed their eyes with such force it brought tears and covered their delicate ears with their hands, bracing themselves from the scream that rang out through the palace. When the screaming finally subsided, Yamato stood and sent a glare to the silhouette by the door. "God woman, this is a palace, not an opera house. There are halls constructed for such purposes."

Sora would have laughed if Yamato didn't look so deadly serious. She glanced at the door and bit back a frown. The young woman was pretty—no, she was beautiful and donned a gown that was undoubtedly made from the most expensive of the exotic, imported fabrics. Her light brown locks were pinned up with care and her aquamarine eyes shone brightly as they darted from Yamato to Sora (though Sora was pretty sure that the light cerulean orbs did not usually hold so much anger).

"Yamato! What has she done to you!"

"Miss Grant, you will address me as _Prince_ and please refrain from referring to my guests so informally. This is Lady Sora." He turned to the redhead and gave a reassuring ghost of a smile. "Sora, this is Catherine Grant."

Catherine fumed and refused to acknowledge the other woman. She kept her eyes locked on Yamato's form, unwilling to even blink for fear of losing him.

The little nymph in bed however, tried her best to smile and nodded politely, "Lady Grant, how do you do?"

Catherine glared at Sora, disgusted by the façade that the woman could keep up. "Good day," she bit out, once again returning her gaze to Yamato, who hadn't moved from the bedside. Tears welled up in her crystal aquamarine eyes as Catherine turned and ran out the room in a ruffle of skirts.

Sora watched with wide-eyed astonishment as the other woman fled and turned her attention to Yamato, who was now staring intently at his boots. "I feel there is something that I have not been informed of," she said soberly, but a smirk played at her lips.

The prince blushed. "My father… my mother and I think he's trying to, uh… finally—"

"Force you to wed? Find you a good wife? Catherine Grant perhaps?"

"I'd rather take a cow for a wife."

She laughed. "I'd be careful of my words if I were you."

"At least a cow would give a sufficient amount of milk. Catherine? There is nothing she is even capable of doing," Yamato mumbled.

"My Prince! I have never heard you say such unkind things!" Sora fanned herself with her right hand, mocking one of the aristocrats who visited the mansion often.

He chuckled at her response and fought to keep a straight face. "I've heard you say worse things."

Fiery brows furrowed together. "When?"

Yamato leaned over Sora, placing his hands on either side of her slender frame and bending down to her ear. She stilled as he whispered.

"In my dreams…"

Sora flushed quicker than a crab in a scorching skillet, as if a tidal wave had just slammed into her. She placed her hands against the prince's toned chest and pushed him away with such might that the blonde had to steady himself on the bedpost. "Scoundrel!" she yelled, laughing as a pillow flew into Yamato's face.

His voice rang out through the room, cloaking every inch with his mellow baritone laughter. "Lady Sora, if you do not desist, I will be forced to retaliate!"

Another pillow hit him squarely in the face.

Yamato suddenly found it foolish to put so many cushions on a bed and picked up the fallen feathery missiles, tossing them towards the vixen. "I'll take into account your injuries and forgive you."

She looked at him skeptically. "You're too kind."

"People often tell me so."

"What in the—"

The young couple quieted immediately as Queen Natsuko stepped into the room and glanced from her son (who had a light blush on his cheeks) to the oddly familiar young woman who lay in bed. "Yamato, what is going on here?" she finally asked the prince after a moment's silence.

Yamato stared at the floor, bathed in the embarrassing sensation of having his mother walk in on him flirting with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. "Mother, you remember Sora don't you?"

Queen Natsuko directed her attention to Sora in bed and quickly scanned the woman's uneven auburn strands, and dark ruby eyes. There was no doubt about it, "Takenouchi?"

Sora blinked. How in the world did the Queen know? "Yes your Majesty. Sora Takenouchi."

Natsuko smiled elegantly. "I knew your mother well. I heard stories of your father."

Sora's eyes lit up at the mention of her mother, but quickly scowled at her father's name. "What kind of stories, Your Majesty?"

"Stories of Lord Takenouchi's handsome features, flaming hair and fiery eyes. And, stories of you."

"Me?"

"My dear, I cannot tell you the kind of man your father was, but I can tell you that he loved you dearly."

Sora lowered her lashes, doubting the statement and unwilling to go against the Queen's word. Her father loved only himself—her mother too at one point, but in the end, he only cared for himself. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Natsuko raised a brow at Sora's hesitance but her smile never wavered. She turned to her son. "Yamato, I trust that you've been taking care of Lady Sora and making sure she has anything she needs?"

"Of course, mother." Yamato answered proudly.

"Wonderful." A pause. "Oh yes, your father would like a word with you. Miss Grant came bursting in with tears and we can't make heads or ends of her story. I suppose that horrendous sound that was heard earlier was coming from here?"

"Yes."

The Queen's eyes darted back and forth from the two and silently mouthed an "Oh." "I see… well… Yamato, we'll need to straighten this up with your father."

He scowled. "I don't know what game the two of them are playing, but I'm not a pawn for them to manipulate. I _shall_ marry who I choose."

"And you will still have to have your father's approval."

§

Yamato arrived at the informal study, where Catherine's wild screams could be heard. The room was vast as all the rooms were and the walls were covered with Rococo style decorations. Luxurious divans with matching cushions were carefully positioned about the room to create a comfortable and productive atmosphere.

"—a commoner!" Catherine squealed and held up her silk handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes delicately.

"You wanted to see me?" Yamato growled, forgetting formalities.

King Hiroaki stopped from rubbing his temples in aggravation and glanced up at his son. His eyes filled with relief and rage all at once. "Yamato! Is what Lady Grant says true? Have you stolen away a mistress in the palace!"

Queen Natsuko coughed wildly.

The prince's cobalt eyes narrowed. "I have not _stolen_ away a _mistress_. Sora is the daughter of Lord Takenouchi and she's ill. I offered hospitality."

"She certainly didn't look very ill to me." Catherine blurted out.

"Sora's injured and her health is frail. Call Joe and ask him yourself, father."

"I was told that Takenouchi's daughter had long since passed away." The King replied, steeping his fingers in his chin in thought.

"Sora's very much alive." Yamato said hotly, sending a careful glare to Catherine in warning.

Obviously she was denser than given credit for. She lunged at him at the next moment. "Yamato, don't you see? It's a trick! She's a commoner! Common!"

"There is _nothing_ common about Sora and though there is no doubt in my mind that she is Lord Takenouchi's daughter, her birth is insignificant."

The Queen gasped and her eyes lit up with hope.

Hiroaki's brows rose. "Enlighten me."

Yamato let out a vexed sigh. "I brought Sora to the palace when I realized she needed medical attention—"

"She's diseased!" Catherine cried, throwing herself onto a couch in unladylike fashion.

"—and I sent for Joe. He tended to her wounds and she's recovering well, but her health is still frail." The prince explained, giving the small audience a severely condensed adaptation and praying that they did not inquire further.

The King's features were twisted in a skeptical stare but the Queen cut in before a word could be said. "It's true Hiroaki, she did seem rather pale, and such a lovely young lady too. You wouldn't turn away a recovering girl, would you?"

King Hiroaki stared at his wife, annoyed but amused at the way she used his delicate pride against him. "Very well, she can stay." Eyes lowered, he cleared his throat. "But Yamato, I've already promised Lord Grant that you would take his daughter to be your bride."

Catherine squealed again, but this time in delight as Queen Natsuko inhaled sharply and Yamato's eyes flashed with fury.

"_That_, father, is most certainly not of my doing." Prince Yamato stalked to the large mahogany doors. "I'd rather marry a cow."

The door closed behind him in crashing force.

Screams ensued.

* * *

**AN:** Oh my lord, I am so sorry for not updating sooner. You all have my sincerest apologies. Though it's no excuse, this chapter gave me a terrible migraine and severe writer's block. I just had no idea what to do with the two, but I'm glad it's finally over! Things should go much more smoothly now. ;)

Thanks for being patient with me.

I forgot to mention, since this chapter was written at practically two separate times with such a large interval between, there might be a great difference between the beginning of the chapter and the end. Feel free to give me suggestions!


	8. Fallen For You

**AN:** To the anonymous reviewers, could you put in your email please? Who knows, I might want to respond.

Okay, so this chapter took a little while, but I still think it's pretty timely. Yepp…

And a thank you to **MoonlightGlow89**.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Digimon not mine.**Chapter Eight: Fallen For You**

Miyako was livid. Three weeks had passed since Sora's little vanishing act and now the girl was nowhere to be found. Miyako stormed down the corridors, sending glares and yelling at anyone and everyone who dared to get in her way. She forced open the door to her bedchamber and the metal knob met with the wall in a thunderous boom. Not bothering to close the door, Miyako ran to her four post bed and threw herself upon it unceremoniously, grabbing a feather pillow and screaming into the cushioned muffler.

_Where the hell is that damned servant!_

After Sora wasn't anywhere to be found for two days and all the other servants swore on everything they had that they were not informed of where the redhead had gone, Miyako had gone into Sora's little bedchamber and promptly ransacked the room in a fit of rage. If Sora didn't return to the mansion, Miyako wasn't going to give her a home to return to.

As much as she hated to admit, the mansion needed Sora. The young woman single handedly took on the jobs of three servants. Janine and Samuel were safe—for the time being until Sora returned. And when she did, Miyako would be sure to teach her what the word _pain_ meant.

**§**

"No."

"Lady Sora, I insist."

"No Prince, _I_ insist."

Silence.

"You're merely jesting, aren't you?"

More silence.

A small group of servants in the palace were crowded against a single mahogany door, each with an ear against the strong wood barrier.

"What do you reckon is going on in there?" One whispered.

"Haven't got an inkling." A gruff voice answered.

"Is this the maiden that the Prince is mad for? Lady Sora?"

"Doesn't sound like she's particularly fond of him."

"Don't be daft. Lady Sora is a wonderful lass, she's kind to every living thing."

Dim laughter was heard.

"I've never heard the Prince laugh like that."

"Maybe the rumors are true—he's in love," another servant offered, careful to keep her voice low. "And Lady Sora is such a vision, they go together well."

"He does spend his days there now—"

"Not just his days, every waking second I hear—"

"Every night!"

The servants stopped abruptly and turned to face the lone girl who had just spoken.

"Perhaps not? Just a rumor then," the girl quickly offered.

The first servant spoke again, "You don't suppose…"

"No! The Queen wouldn't possibly allow it."

"The Queen doesn't need to be informed."

"Lady Sora is much more dignified than that."

"Is he going to propose? It'll be a grand wedding! She'll look ravishing in a bride's dress."

Before the sentence could be finished, a scream came from inside the room and the huddle of servants rushed into the room to defend their lady's honor. They stood by the door, unsure of how to interpret the scene.

Sora was pressed against the wall with the Prince locking her in place with his arms, a dangerously gleaming scissor in his right hand. The couple stared at the small group that had gathered by the door. The servants stared back.

Yamato was the first to move. He cleared his throat loudly and moved away from the wall, cheeks tinted a light pink while his ears flamed. "I uh… we were… what is the meaning of this!"

Cassandra, the middle aged woman who had grown fond of Sora during the weeks that she tended to her, rushed to the Lady's side. "Lady Sora, you really shouldn't be favoring your bad leg like that—"

"Oh don't worry Cassandra, I've had _weeks_ to find my strength. I assure you I'm fine," Sora replied, her eyes never leaving Yamato's. The Prince lowered his lashes, unhappy with the way Sora glared at him. "Thank you all for erm… coming to my aid… but there's really nothing to be bothered about."

"Is there anything you need?" Cassandra pressed, running a tentative hand through her slowly graying black hair.

"No—"

"Yes. Cassandra, did _it_ arrive?" Yamato cut in, receiving one of Sora's bewildered looks at his secrecy.

The servant's dark eyes lit up. "Oh _yes_ and it's absolutely beautiful."

"You know where to put it?"

"Of course Your Highness."

Yamato smiled. "Thank you." Suddenly remembering the rest of the mob who were all staring curiously at him, he cleared his throat again. Loud. Too loud. He started coughing as the unwanted audience filtered quietly out of the bedchamber.

Sora went to Yamato's side as soon as the door clicked shut and kicked him at the shin. He wheezed wildly in the midst of his coughing and gave her a playful glare. "Sora… what… was that… for?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "For causing a scene."

"Me?"

"You."

"All I wanted was to give you a haircut like I promised."

"All you wanted to do was ruin it further!"

"You never know unless you try."

"Prince, as wonderfully handsome you are, there is no possible way I would allow you to fashion my hair."

He grinned widely—dangerously handsome. "Why my dear Lady, I had no idea you felt that way. Do not worry, I find you deliciously beautiful," Yamato replied, enjoying the way Sora's skin flushed.

In the total three weeks of Sora's stay in the palace, the two had grown to be inseparable. Yamato was always the first thing Sora saw in the mornings, and the last thing at night. They joked happily with one another, and behaved like the best of friends. But while Yamato fell more in love with Sora, the quick-witted woman was slow to discover affection.

"Your silver tongue won't work this time. You're not coming near me with _those_." She tilted her head towards the scissors in his hand. Though the sight of them unnerved her a bit, nothing seemed dangerous in Yamato's hands.

Yamato raised a brow. "My silver tongue? My Lady, you have not yet discovered what—"

"Not another word!"

"Then you will let me trim those lovely strands?"

"Never."

"You leave me no choice."

He advanced. Sora pressed backwards until she felt the wall touch. She shook her head, this was exactly where they were moments before the mass invaded the delicate privacy. "What are you going to do?" She asked hesitantly, fearing the answer.

Yamato gave a feral grin, a look that never failed to give Sora a hurtling case of the butterflies. "You say my silver _tongue_ won't work. I intend to prove to you otherwise."

He was close. Closer than close. Yamato's hands came to rest on either side of Sora's head once again, his deep cobalt pools drawing her in. Looking away wasn't an option. Moving away was unquestionable. Sora stared back at the Prince, making no move to stop his slow descent, and relishing in the soft sandalwood scent that he always smelled of. Heavens, she was trapped.

Yamato couldn't break away from those mesmerizing dark rubies staring back at him. He had started the joke with every intention of showing her just how much his silver 'tongue' could do, but now he was captive to the double edged sword. Who could've ever guessed that being this close to her would drive him to the limits? Yamato wanted to touch her, hold her, and most of all, he wanted to kiss her senseless.

So close, he could feel her breath on his lips. _So _close.

Their lips barely grazed before Sora suddenly came to her senses and turned away quickly. She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid of looking into his eyes only to become lost once more. "Okay! I surrender!"

Yamato almost cursed under his breath. "Good. Now be a good Lady and take off your dress," he joked, testing just how far he could press his luck.

Sora stared at the prince, not completely hearing his words. _Yama is different…_ she mused. It was like an alternate personality, a jokingly flirtatious youth as compared to the stoic and serious heir to the throne. One side drew her in like a magnetic pull, mostly focused on her lips while the other side made her want to slap him—and then kiss him.

She blinked. Did Yamato just tell her to take off her dress?

**§**

Sora didn't know how he did it, but Yamato was definitely full of surprises. She fingered her barely shoulder length hair, trimmed to perfection. Glancing at the blonde adjacent to her on the piano bench, currently concentrating on the musical ivory keys of the instrument, Sora couldn't help but smile warmly. He really was perfect.

They were in the music room of the colossal palace, a room that Sora gradually grew familiar with during the consistent visits. Yamato had insisted passionately that a recovery was not complete without some proper 'healing music' as he called it. So day after day, week after week, Sora and Yamato meandered through the labyrinth of halls to reach the serene room. During the first week, Sora had required assistance to stand, but she now stood very ably on her own two legs, though the small limp couldn't be helped.

Sora blinked, finally realizing that the music had long since faded away. She turned to her side and found Yamato staring intently at her. "What is it?"

"You had that look on your face again."

A fiery brow quirked. "What look?"

"The faraway look."

"What faraway look?"

"The look that tells me you're thinking about something else."

"I'm always thinking about something else."

Yamato frowned and gave her a look askance. "Very well Lady, come with me."

"Why?"

She received a lopsided smirk. "Why must you always interrogate me so?"

"Where are we going?"

"To the gardens."

"The gardens?"

"Yes, haven't I always said I'd take you to the gardens? I think you're up for the walk now."

Sora blanched as a sudden thought of Marianne, Samuel, and Janine flashed in her mind. She missed them dearly. "Yes Yama… let's go to the gardens."

He watched her carefully, knowing perfectly well what she was thinking of. A long sigh escaped his lips; it was only a matter of time before reality came crashing down on her. When it did, Yamato was sure that she would insist on returning to the mansion. He wouldn't allow that. He couldn't allow that.

**§**

Sora inhaled deeply, savoring the honey like aroma that surrounded her. The flowers were in full bloom, their lovely array of colors opening up to the couple like an earthly rainbow. She raced up and down the narrow paths, turning this way and that in order to greedily take in all of the natural beauty. "It might sound stupid if I say it now, but… it's beautiful." Sora turned to the prince.

Yamato gave her a lazy, I'm-too-sexy look before returning his eyes back to the distant horizon of the field. They walked in companionable silence, with Sora stopping once in a while to admire the different specimens. He watched curiously as she bent down, reached out her hands, and then sprung them back towards her body before they ever touched the delicate plants.

He gave her an amused look. "Why do you keep doing that?"

Sora smiled shyly and looked down at her hands before clasping them together behind her back and running further along the path. Ruby eyes lit up as a pond came into view, loosely surrounded by lustrous willow trees, their light tendrils flowing freely in the breeze. Excited as a small child in a world of candy, Sora spun around on her heels with her short auburn hair flaring out like a delicate fan and waved eagerly to Yamato.

The prince laughed and strode up the path willingly, following the large slabs of slate, which gradually formed into a neat trail. "What can I do for you, Lady Sora?" Yamato said as soon as he was within earshot and bowed gracefully.

Sora grinned impishly. She absolutely loved it when he called her _Lady_. Rather than have it be a formal boundary, the title sounded more like a loving pet name when Yamato spoke it. _Only_ when Yamato spoke it. Reaching out a slender finger, Sora pointed to a small stone bench conveniently placed under a gargantuan willow. "Can we?"

Yamato gave her a devilish smirk and nodded, his cobalt eyes reflecting nothing but pure happiness. He strayed behind Sora as she gaily skipped up to the shaded bench and plunged down in an unladylike manner. She turned to the pond and took in the breathtaking view of lily pads on the glossy surface and various greens. It was an oasis, much like the spring in the forest.

On the far side of the pond, the trees thickened with crawling ivy. Amidst the shadows stood a large statue of a winged creature, one that Sora could not make out. She sighed happily and leaned back with her arms outstretched behind her. Closing her eyes, Sora basked in the light breeze until something velvety brushed against her skin.

Peeking an eye open, Sora's breath hitched in her throat and forced both eyes to widen. Yamato stood before her, offering a single full blooming white rose in his outstretched arm. Sora smirked, nothing was dangerous in Yamato's hand, let it be chef's knife, dagger, or scissors, the most harmful objects were rendered useless in Sora's eyes—but a single rose was so deadly. With a single rose, Sora decided that Yamato could sway the most stubborn women, the purest girls, the wildest females, and that's not to mention the thousands that were already worshipping the ground he walked on.

But now, it wasn't thousands of females he was soothing over with his charming boyish grin and a flower—now, it was just Sora. God, how effective a single rose was in the right hands.

She smiled widely before taking the rose from his hand, careful not to brush his fingers. If a mere flower could turn her world upside down, Sora didn't want to know what his _touch_ could do right now.

"I figured that you wanted to pick the flowers."

She blinked. "Huh?"

Yamato chuckled and took a seat beside Sora. "You kept bending down, reaching out, and pulling back in remember?" He puffed up his chest proudly. "I figured out that you wanted to pick them."

Sora laughed softly. "You're quite slow for a famed prince."

"You can, you know—pick them, that is," Yamato said, giving her a lopsided grin in response.

She shook her head, short auburn strands flaring out as she did so. "No, I really shouldn't. You've been so kind to me, I don't want to repay you by stripping your garden."

The prince gave her a skeptical look. "Don't say that, Sora. Don't talk as if you owe me. If anything, I am the one that is in debt to _you_."

She pouted prettily. "I don't understand."

"You've saved me!"

"Saved you from what?"

"From the endless cycle of my pitiful meaningless days."

"Your days aren't pitiful. They're certainly not meaningless."

"Ah, but they _were_. I wasn't a very responsible prince, I ran from my duties and I always pitied myself, but you've showed me what a gift everything is. Some people are born with so little when I was born with the kingdom in my hands. You've had everything taken away from you and yet you refuse to give in, whereas I, I've had everything handed to me and it still wasn't enough. I'll do better now, Sora. I promise. I'll be a prince the kingdom can be proud of."

Yamato's words moved Sora and she placed her hand delicately on his arm, softly caressing his worries away. "You _are_ a prince the kingdom is proud of. Why do you make yourself sound so selfish when you are clearly the opposite?"

"Because I am, Sora."

"I don't believe that. Not even for a second."

Yamato smirked at the young woman beside him. That's what he loved about Sora, she always saw the best in people—he frowned, what if someone mistook her good nature for gullibility? No, Sora was definitely anything but gullible, he was sure she'd be positively frightening when angered. Feeling his good mood return, Yamato shrugged happily, stuffed his hands into his pockets in an almost inappropriately leisurely manner, and leaned his head against Sora's.

She shifted and wiggled uncomfortably. "You're heavy, Yama."

"Whatever you say, Lady. You know, mother used to tell me that there was a secret passageway in the gardens that lead to the outside of the palace," he said absentmindedly as his long fingers brushed against something cool in his trouser pocket.

"Really? Do you know where it is?" Sora asked with a peaked interest.

"No, but I used to spend hours looking for it— hold still will you?" Yamato persisted as the young woman began to move again.

"What do you have as hair, hay? It's hurting me," Sora teased.

"You're fortunate to even be this close to it," Yamato mumbled. He pulled out the long linked object and examined it. "You know, after saying such hurtful things, I'm really not sure if I should give this to you…" he said softly. His fingers tangled and weaved with the light silver chain.

"Give what to me?" Sora tried to twist around in order to see what the prince was hiding from her, but his head really did prove to be heavy. So she shoved him.

Yamato fell onto the slate tiles and glared up at her. "Just for that, I'm not going to give it to you."

Sora glowered at Yamato for a moment before swiveling around curtly on the stone bench and crossing her arms. "I'm not so sure I want it anyways."

Yamato stood and laughed genuinely while he dusted himself off. Sitting on the bench again, he turned to face Sora's back and drew out the silver necklace. He looped it around her neck gracefully and closed the clasp. "I was only joking, Sora. I want you to have this," he whispered huskily against her ear.

Her fingers hooked around the chain on her chest and brought it out for her inspection. When Sora saw the intricately swirled heart shaped pendant, she recognized it immediately. "What—no, where—" a sigh followed as she finally collected her senses and settled on one word, "how?"

Yamato's dark blonde brows furrowed as he struggled to read Sora's reaction. "I bought it at the vender's that day when I found you in the markets. I thought you'd like it."

The dazzling smile, he anticipated. The tears shocked him, but he accepted gratefully. The lunge caught him completely off guard. Sora threw her arms around Yamato and clung to him, unintentionally suffocating him in her death grip. "Thank you, Yama! Thank you!"

Recovering quickly from the shock, Yamato wrapped his arms around Sora and squeezed in a comforting manner, meanwhile ignoring his need for air until it was absolutely necessary. He finally pulled away from the overjoyed woman, gasping for air and inhaling it greedily. When he recovered, Yamato looked at Sora and raised a brow, asking a silent question.

She beamed brightly at him. "When I saw it at the vender's I really didn't know what to do. I wanted to buy it, but it would only cause trouble. I didn't want to see another wearing it, but it didn't seem like there was a choice."

Yamato's expression was that of a helplessly baffled male. Irresistible and asking to be hugged.

Sora fingered the chain affectionately. "This necklace belonged to my mother. She gave it to me on her deathbed and told me to treasure it. She said it would bring me luck." Sora lowered her lashes and began to draw lazy circles with her feet. "I did treasure it, really… but soon after I began doing chores for the Inoues, Miyako found it in my room during one of her periodical raids. She accused me to stealing it and took it from me. We got in a huge argument and it ended with me getting whipped for the first time." Yamato snorted unceremoniously, prompting Sora to laugh. "It was worth it. Apparently I had frightened Miyako enough that she was much too scared to even think about wearing it. She sold it eventually, but I rather it be sold than have it be worn around her neck." Sora glanced up to see Yamato grinning widely. "What is it?"

He chuckled. "I knew you'd be a force to be reckoned with if you got mad."

Instead of slapping him or disproving the statement, Sora gave him a smile that reached her eyes. "I thought I'd never see it again. I can't thank you enough."

"No thanks needed, all in a day's work, Lady Sora." He paused and scratched his head adorably before continuing, "The vender called it the Crest of Love."

"The Crest of Love? That's original. I don't know what it is, I just know that it was my mother's and that's all I need to know." She smiled fondly, pressing hand against her chest where the pendant rested. "I won't _ever_ lose it again. I'll never take it off!"

Rich baritone laughter filled the atmosphere at Sora's proclamation. It came to a sudden halt as Cassandra came to, running towards the couple resting on the stone bench. The middle-aged woman stopped before them, greeted them formally, and kept her head bowed. "Highness, the King demands to see you."

Yamato didn't move—didn't so much as blink as he stoically gazed out at the drifting lilies of the pond. The flowers were in full bloom, baring their rosy colored glory for all atop a glossy canvas of water. Cassandra kept her head lowered as her fingers began to twitch with anticipation of the prince's lack of response.

Sora leaned forward in order to see Yamato's face and scowled before jabbing him sharply in the ribs. "You may be a prince, but it doesn't give you the excuse to be _rude_," she scolded him, wagging a finger before his face while he playfully glared at her.

Yamato caught Sora's hand and touched his lips to the back of her hand. He laughed. "Yes milady, I'll keep that in mind." He stood and turned to Cassandra. "My apologies. I'll go now. Stay here with the Lady and makes sure she picks some flowers. On second thought—" he swiveled to Sora who was innocently looking up at him with large ruby eyes, "I want… hydrangeas… in my room. A _lot_ of hydrangeas." He walked away before Sora could say a word, only turning back to give her a sly wink.

She stared at his retreating back with her mouth hanging open. What kind of… what? Sora shook her head and giggled, Yamato certainly had his charms. "Well, you heard the prince, I must now be forced into endless weeks of labor by the hydrangeas. He won't stop until his room is filled with them or the field becomes barren, whichever comes first."

Cassandra allowed herself to chuckle at the lady's playful manner. "The hydrangea fields will certainly become barren before even half of Prince Yamato's room is filled."

**§**

Sora sat on the soil in the hydrangea fields despite Cassandra's protest, and happily collected the multiple variations of hydrangeas the family owned. Her gown, which had been a soft rosy color before it touched the dirt, had been given to Sora. Yamato explained that while she slept through the four days, he had the dress prepared—that explained the looseness of the fit. It was nothing lavish, which is why Sora loved it so much. Plain and simple, with lightly decorated hems and wide sleeves.

"The prince fancies you, Lady Sora."

The young woman paused and gave Cassandra a bemused look. "What makes you say that, Cassandra?"

The older woman smiled knowingly and laid down the colossal armful of hydrangeas they had already gathered. "The prince rarely apologizes, much less to a mere servant. But you simply mutter a few words and he obliges."

Sora fluffed her hair and laughed, returning her attention to the large blossoming pink hydrangea she was about to clip. "It only proves he's softer person than many people have realized. I haven't done a thing."

"Lady Sora, that is definitely not the only matter and there are too many to name. I won't try to convince you but the entire palace has no doubt of his devotion to you. We can all _feel_ it the moment we wake. Believe me Lady, it is there—"

"Cassssssssaaaaaaaandraaaaa!" A voice called out from the garden entrance. "You're needed!"

Cassandra waved back and was about to walk off before she turned to Sora and bowed. "I only ask that you do not reject him. You're a wonderful person, Lady Sora, and you'd make a fine queen."

Sora's mouth hung open for the second time that day as she watched yet another retreating back. "But I already love him," she whispered to no one. Glee filled her entire being once the astonishment faded and after clipping a few more ridiculously large hydrangeas, she collected the entire lot (which took much, _much_ effort) and made her way carefully back into the palace.

Catherine Grant seemed to float down the palace halls as she headed in the direction of the room where the King would be waiting. He had explained that they would resolve the matter reasonably and Catherine knew that always meant _her_ way. Of course… there was never the matter of an outside complication added to the problem. Lost in her thoughts, Catherine rounded a corner and fell onto the floor, landing embarrassingly on her bottom with a loud, "Oof," when she collided into a walking bush of rainbow petals.

Recovering quickly, the brunette stood and dusted herself off, shaking out any loose petals in her hair and glaring down at the clumsy girl who had _obviously_ walked right into her. Sora apologized and offered Catherine an innocent smile from where she sat on the floor with hydrangeas scattered all around. Aquamarine eyes narrowed, "Oh, it's you."

"Lady Grant." Sora acknowledged the other woman and began collecting the hydrangeas.

Catherine watched the auburn haired woman collect the flowers on the floor. "So tell me, _Lady_ Sora, what brings you to the palace?"

"Me? I… fainted in the forest and was fortunate enough to meet the prince."

"Oh, that sounds dreadful! _I_ of course, was _invited_ to the palace by the King. I am to marry Yamato and there is _nothing_ that will change it. We are mad for each other."

Sora stayed silent, unsure of what to say and not believing Catherine's words entirely. But the emphasis she put on 'invited'…

"Where is your family, Lady Sora?"

"I… they are deceased."

"Oh, but where do you live?"

"…" Sora closed her eyes, "Not far."

"Not far? I'm puzzled. If you are here under the circumstances of what you claim, then you have surely healed and I don't see the point of your stay. Is there something at home you would not like to go back to? Oh my, do you have a home, dear?"

"…Yes, I have a home."

"Are you really Lord Takenouchi's daughter?"

"…yes."

"That's odd, I've never heard of his daughter. I haven't heard of any Takenouchi around these areas for ages."

Catherine sneered at Sora's silence and took a step forward, crushing a blooming hydrangea under her heel. "You know what _I_ think?" Another step. Another flower. "I think you're a servant girl with and active imagination, an impulse to lie, and too much time on her hands. You may have everyone fooled, but not me." A brief flash of silver caught Catherine's eye and she reached down to touch the pendant on Sora's chest. "And look, now you've stolen from them too. Is that what you are? A thief?"

A scream echoed through the hall as Sora grabbed Catherine's wrist and stood. Her hand tightened around the brunette's limb, bending it back until Catherine was on her knees and their places exchanged. "I am _not_ a thief. I did not steal from the Ishidas."

Tears meandered down Catherine's flawless cheeks as she glared up defiantly. "Then what are you? You can't possibly _afford_ that necklace! You don't belong here! You've outstayed your welcome!"

Sora's hand loosened slowly as Catherine's words sank in. As much as she hated to admit, Catherine was right. No matter what or who she was, Sora had outstayed her welcome. The only reason why she was brought to the palace in the first place was that she was injured, but now that she had healed, she was only delaying the inevitable.

Catherine was cradling her wrist, sobbing like the spoiled girl she was. "You're not wanted here, you're not one of us." She chanted over and over. "Yamato is going to marry me so I don't see the point of your staying here! I suggest you leave _immediately_."

Sora stared at Catherine for a brief moment before turning and walking away slowly in a daze. She had to leave. The palace wasn't where she belonged. Though Lord Takenouchi was her father, he had passed away a long time ago and Sora was reduced to nothing but a servant. Who was she fooling? Why had she stayed so long? Even after her wounds had healed, she kept her mind away from the mansion, Miyako, Lady Inoue… Janine, Marianne, Sam… as her friends suffered, was it right of her to be selfish? No. She couldn't. Sora knew it was time for her to go… but why couldn't she?

Because of Yamato. Because she had fallen head over heels in love with the prince. The prince who was to marry Catherine Grant.

There was no reason to stay anymore.

* * *

**AN:** Don't worry! It'll work out, I promise! Besides that, do your really think I'd have Sora go back to the mansion? I really intended to write more but this chapter was getting much too lengthy for my taste. So you'll have to wait for the next chapter! Pretty please?

Tell me what you think, review!


	9. Leaving

**AN:** I've realized I haven't **thanked** you guys for **100 reviews**! (I'm only 60 reviews too late, all good, all good.) So, thank you all so so so so so so so much for taking time in your lives to read whatever nonsense I've written and a **special** thanks to all the reviewers for taking more time from your lives to comment on whatever nonsense I've written. I will never be able to fully express my **gratitude**.

**_July edit_:** okay, no excuses. After all that schoolwork (which paid off, thank God), I couldn't bring myself back into a writing mood with this story. I kept looking at it and thinking, _God, this is terrible_. There are so many mistakes in it but I've decided to finish nonetheless and just let it stand as a lesson to myself. I'm working to make the remaining chapters worthwhile! A great thank you to all the readers!

**ChikinWang – **I was actually thinking about _Ever After_ when I wrote that Yamato scene in the last chapter so I'm not surprised you were reminded of the movie. ;) I am very much inspired by that movie. Thank you for reviewing!

**Pyrodragon304 –** Giving my best estimate, I'd say this fic is ending in about five chapters. I'm really not too sure though, I'm still trying to work things out. Thank you for the wonderful review!

**LastRedSeaKin** – One of my favorites on FFnet, you're always inspirational. Thank you _so_ much for you review. It was greatly motivating! This chapter is dedicated to you.

**Disclaimer:** **Digimon is not mine.**

**Chapter Nine – Leaving**

Raindrops pounded against the windows of the palace and seemed to echo on forever in the silent chamber. Catherine Grant, seated in her most ladylike fashion in a corner armchair glanced at the slowly darkening skies and sighed. She had spent hours in the colossal room that seemed to be anything but comfortable at the moment with the father and son royalty who had seemingly settled on a quiet battle of who could stay silent the longest. Then again, she should have known that bumping into that wretched Sora girl in the halls would result in nothing good for the rest of the day.

A small smirk tugged at her lips and Catherine quietly busied herself with picking out the stray petals that had managed to stay in her luxurious hair. With any luck, that servant girl would have left the palace by now. An involuntarily gasp left her lips as the double doors burst open with an almost ethereal force. Queen Natsuko's silhouetted form stood at the entrance, a scowl on her lips.

After spending the day visiting a longtime friend, Natsuko's good mood was spoiled the instant she returned. "Stop this childish behavior, you're both grown men for goodness' sake!" she growled.

The two men glared, groaned, and sighed before reluctantly looking away and muttering greetings. Natsuko's features softened slightly; she would never admit it, but she found their behavior to be quite amusing. She turned to Catherine in the corner, "Dear, would you—" _Are those petals?_ she wanted to ask, but instead, blinked and continued, "return to your chamber? It's not necessary for you to be in the middle of this."

_Not necessary? But I'm going to be marrying Yamato!_ Despite the ramblings in her mind, Catherine cleared her throat and smiled the same smile she was taught since childhood. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Natsuko waited until the doors clicked in place after Catherine before turning to the two men. King Hiroaki studied the lush carpet in focused concentration while Yamato's eyes roamed about the bookshelves and ceiling, careful not to settle anywhere near his mother. "Enough is enough." Natsuko placed her hands firmly on her hips and turned to her husband with a soft swish of fabric. "Hiroki, stop trying to force _our_ son into a joyless marriage! Aren't you the least bit concerned with how Yamato feels in this?"

"But of course—" The Hiroaki began to protest but was cut short when Natsuko held up a hand.

"Not a word. I asked a question, I do not require an answer. Be glad, Hiroaki, that I have not yet started on the fact that you could take it upon yourself to promise Lord Grant such things without my approval! This is not the concern of a King, but the concern of a mother and father!"

Hiroaki lowered his head in defeat and could be heard muttering something that sounded like, "I didn't promise…" under his breath.

Natsuko touched a hand gingerly to her forehead. "Yamato, I can hear you."

The prince, who had been coughing quietly trying to keep in his amused laughter upon seeing his father get "whipped," immediately silenced. Instead, he let his mind wander to thoughts of Sora and mused with a range of numbers of the amount of hydrangeas that would be waiting for him when he returned to his room.

"We'll hold a ball." Natsuko stated as her eyes found her son's cobalt ones. "Yamato, I hope you'll understand that as unreasonable your father is," a loud grunt was heard, "that it really is time for you to take a wife."

"But—"

"No buts, Yamato. We'll hold a ball where you can publicly announce your bride for the entire kingdom. Make sure that all the ladies of noble birth are invited and," she lowered her tone and winked, "any red headed ladies that you'd like to invite as well. Lord Grant will have to settle with knowing that his daughter was given an opportunity like all the other girls." She turned to her husband, "Really, Hiroaki, this isn't an issue that I should be concerned with. I think this is a compromise. Though Yamato may not marry Miss Grant, he will marry and the question of an heir will no longer be… a question."

King Hiroaki turned over the facts in his mind though there was only one answer that was _available_ to him. If he said no, his wife would no doubt go ahead with the plan regardless, but the idea of a public ultimatum seemed reasonable. He nodded, as if coming to a tough decision. "Agreed."

Yamato grinned widely, rose out of his seat, and hugged his mother. He straightened his jacket and with the same unwavering grin, announced loudly that he had matters to attend to.

When small petals began littering the halls, Yamato had just blissfully assumed that perhaps Sora had gotten a little messy on the way back into the palace until he rounded a corner and came to the pastel field of fallen petals. He didn't need anyone to tell him what had happened, he didn't need to know what happened. The sickening feeling that had begun to form in his chest and was quickly spreading to his throat was all that Yamato needed. In flurry of petals, he raced down the halls, twisting turning this way and that, not caring who was there, and who would meet with an unfortunate end in his path.

Finally, Yamato came to her door and for once in his life, he was afraid to enter a room. It was different than opening the double doors to his father's study for a scolding after he had caused some mischief in the palace. Yamato was afraid of being alone and as he stood in front of the mahogany door, he knew it wasn't what he would see that he was scared of, but rather, what he would _not_ see.

He knocked once, twice, and waited, prayed. He held his breath, knocked a third time and waited. When his mind came to the acceptance that silence was the only answer he'd receive, Yamato slowly, but surely entered the room.

"Sora?" He called out in hopes that perhaps what his gut was telling him wasn't the truth. "Are you here?"

As Yamato's cobalt eyes adjusted to the darkness, he felt his heart slowly fracture at the sight of the gown left behind on the bed. Walking over, he slowly knelt down and touched the heavenly soft velvet. It was what he had mysteriously asked Cassandra to place on the bed in Sora's absence. Crimson velvet, gold hems, and a long flowing skirt, he had put so much thought into it, but she left it behind like it was nothing. Obviously Sora didn't want anything to do with him, she didn't love him the way he loved her.

A small voice inside Yamato's head screamed at him. How could he possibly make such assumptions based on a dress left behind? But to Yamato, it was almost as if she said, "Here, take it back. I don't want anything to do with you."

He sighed, and threw himself unceremoniously onto the pillows, greedily inhaling any scent that would remind him of her. As he moved his hand over the velvet gown, a piece of paper touched his fingers. Yamato shot up, hastily grabbed the paper and narrowed his eyes in a great effort to read in the dark.

**§**

Sora paused for a moment in the languid town and tilted her face to sky. She inhaled deeply and smiled, it smelled like rain. With a backward glance, she could still faintly make out the palace. It was so hard to leave, _so hard to leave him_, but she did not belong there. In a distant corner of her mind, Sora always knew she would have to leave as the palace was obviously no place for her if even her own home was hardly welcoming, but God, how much she wanted to belong there, _with him_.

She smiled softly, remembering the gown that he had no doubt spent a lot of time fretting over. Taking it would have been greedy, impolite, and overall, it would have proved Catherine Grant right. Catherine Grant belonged in the palace, Sora knew, but in no way did that mean she had to listen to her. She hadn't left the palace after a few words from a spoiled young woman, and it pained her to make it seem like she had. Simply, it became apparent to Sora that she did not belong in the palace and it was time she left. Life was no fairytale and though she may love the prince, they weren't meant to be together.

Sora hugged herself with her free hand as the other held her neat bundle of belongings. Selfish as it was, and though she worried to death over the well being of three who had come to be known as her adopted family, Sora had no intention of returning to the Inoues—that much dignity she was set on keeping.

If she did not return to the mansion, or the palace, there was only one other place. By the time she traveled from the town's edge to the butcher's shop, a light drizzle had begun. She knocked on the old oak door once, twice, and waited impatiently. She knocked a third time, this time with more force, waited for two seconds before relentlessly pounding on the door with her fist.

Sora was well soaked through by the time Taichi finally came to the door. It swung open to reveal a disheveled and yawning Tai. "Uhe shoph if clo—" he stopped mid yawn and stared at the woman standing is his doorway looking most displeased, wet, and undeniably seductive. "Sora?"

Crimson eyes narrowed as she stepped into the shop without an invitation and pushed Tai aside before slamming the door shut firmly behind her. "Sorry to _disturb_ you, Taichi."

He chuckled and held up his hands in defense. "Hey, hey, I work hard, these people drive me insane, I need my rest, ya?"

"Of course."

"Though, you could have just come in through the back."

"…shut up, Tai."

A comfortable silence settled between the two as Tai took the bundle in Sora's hand and gently pulled her into a soft embrace. Her mood changed, Sora gladly returned the friendly gesture. "I'm sorry, Tai. I didn't want to burst in on you so suddenly—"

He pulled away and patted her firmly on the head. "Not another word, stay for as long as you like. Hell, stay forever if that suits your fancy."

Sora blinked.

Tai grinned. "I figured, since Janine came by a few weeks ago and asked if I knew where you were. I see you're still limping."

"Firstly, don't pat me on the head, I'm not some animal. Second, my limping has gotten much better, thank you; and third," She smirked, "I guess you're not so dense after all, Tai."

"Yea, yea, are you going to come upstairs or not? Not too pleasant with you ruining my floors."

Sora quirked a brow and then softened into a gracious smile. "Right behind you." After reaching the last step, Sora sighed and did a quick scan of the living quarters. The hardwood floors were worn and creaked beneath their weight, but held firm; the small windows were well cleaned and accompanied with homey curtains; the furniture was old, but well polished. "Hasn't changed much in over a decade," she commented lightly.

He shrugged, "I like it like this, just the way they left it."

"Me too."

"Tai? What's the racket?"

They turned to face the nine-year-old girl who was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes by the doorway. Taichi walked over to where his sister stood and knelt down beside her. "Hey Kari, look who it is," he whispered.

The little girl stopped rubbing her eyes and focused on the womanly figure standing in the darkened room. She blinked. "Sora?" came her timid voice.

Sora grinned widely and leaned over, extending her arms to the girl she always considered a sister. Hikari ran over without a second thought and wrapped her arms around Sora as tight as she could.

"Sora, Sora! You stopped visiting and I thought Tai did something to make you mad again. I know he does some things that are kind of daft but we missed you so much!"

Sora tilted her head back and laughed at the child's words while stroking Hikari's short coffee colored hair. "I haven't been away for that long, Kari!" she leaned down and added, "And Tai may be a little lacking of common sense sometimes, but that wouldn't stop me from visiting you."

"I heard that." Tai's deep voice came from the doorway. He stood with his arms crossed sternly over his chest. "Don't you think you should be drying off? I don't want any of you girls to be getting more diseased than you already are."

They stuck out their tongues at him simultaneously in reply.

Taichi narrowed his eyes playfully at his sister. "Go on now, you little monster, get to bed. You can talk to Sora in the morning." With a gleeful cheer, Hikari gave Sora another hug and ran off to her small room in the corner. "You. Room next to Kari's. Get dry, get rested."

"Yes sir. Understood." Sora replied jokingly. She picked up her parcel from the floor and gave Taichi a small wave before entering the narrow room.

"Oh, and your hair looks good short. Good night, Sora."

**§**

_Prince Yamato, for the past month, you've shown me more kindness than my stepfamily has for the past decade. You've already become the prince of my heart. You will be a king the people will surely celebrate. Thank you. _Yamato lay on his bed, reading and then rereading the letter that Sora had left behind. White sunlight bathed the room, but he was in no mood to rise from his position. The letter was painfully short and she had simply signed it as _Sora_. She offered no hidden explanations for her sudden leave or any hints that she had even acknowledged the gown.

Frustrated, Yamato crumpled the paper in his fist with a groan, and cast it aside to the far corner of the bedchamber. He stared at the ball of paper and could have sworn that it too, was staring right back at him, willing him to pick it up, smooth it out, and place it neatly in his drawer as a piece of Sora he would keep forever. He was going insane, unable to stop thinking of her glossy auburn hair and eyes of dark crimson, but he would be damned before he listened to what he _thought_ the ball of paper was telling him to do. So instead of picking it up, smoothing it out, and placing it for safekeeping in his drawer, Yamato picked it up and hastily stuffed it into his pocket. He crossed his arms, feeling satisfied with his actions before a knock at the door startled him.

"I said I don't want any break—" he barked.

"Dear, it's your mother. Open the door, Yamato."

Obediently, he let his mother in and returned to his bed where he sat down with an "oof," supported his elbows on his knees, rested his head in his palms and pouted.

Queen Natsuko laughed. "Back to being a child, I see." She sighed softly and with a rustle of fabric, sat down by her son, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I was told this morning that our guest had left? As I take it, you were not informed of her decision, were you?"

Yamato sighed loudly and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I thought she was happy here, I thought maybe…" _she liked me_. "I wanted—"

"It's okay dear," Natsuko cooed as she wrapped her arms protectively around her son. "A girl like that will make a wonderful queen one day. I dare say I'm old fashioned, but I do believe that you cannot escape love so easily."

Yamato laughed at his mother's romanticized view of life, but a part of him held onto the idea with hope. "I want to find her," he simply said.

Natsuko's features lit up with mirth, "The ball is in two weeks. I'll be eagerly waiting to see my handsome son and the woman he'll choose to be his wife. Don't be late, dear, your father expects us to dine with him tonight." She stood and glided smoothly to the door. "Did you see the petals in the hall? The oddest thing, I think Miss Grant had some petals in her hair as well."

**§**

"How many?"

"Two."

"And you, Takeru?"

"Two please." The little boy answered, holding up two of his fingers for the auburn haired woman to see.

Sora gave the two a fond look before turning to collect the eggs from the basket, "Kari, would you run downstairs and ask that brother of yours how many eggs he'd like?"

"Yes Lady!" Hikari replied eagerly and hurried off downstairs to where Tai was currently "feeding the animals" as he liked to call it.

A regretful smile found its way onto Sora's lips at the mention of the pet name Yamato had used to call her. It always sounded so sweet and loving when it came from him, unlike the cruel mocking tone Catherine Grant was accustomed to using.

"Sora?"

Takeru's voice broke Sora out of her momentary reminiscing and she turned to the boy, blinking rapidly. "Yes TK?" she answered.

The boy giggled playfully, "You've stopped moving!"

"Oh you're right!" She turned and bowed her head politely with a smirk tugging at her lips. "My apologies."

Takeru lifted his hand and waved it at Sora's direction, dismissing the matter. She couldn't help but laugh. "Do people do that in the palace?" he asked curiously.

Sora patted the boy on the blonde mop he called hair and put a finger to her chin in thought. "Actually TK, the King and Queen were both very kind people."

"And the Prince?"

She smiled. "And the Prince most of all."

"Sooooooooora!" came a sweet girlish voice from the stairs.

"Kaaaaaaaaaaari!"

Hikari peeked her head in through the doorway and grinned. "There is someone here to see you."

Sora's eyes widened in surprise, but that quickly changed to delight as a familiar young woman walked into the room. She ran forward and lunged at her.

"Sora Takenouchi! I have been looking everywhere for you!" Janine exclaimed after they pulled away. "Where have you been? We were so worried about you!"

"I'm sorry Janine, I'm so sorry. Believe me when I say it." Sora whispered with her head bent down.

Janine scoffed. "Stop that, you know I can't stand it." She paused and smiled at Sora, taking the moment to finally observe her best friend standing in the middle of the narrow kitchen, wearing a simple pastel yellow dress and a wide smile. She was fondling with Takeru's dirty blonde hair again and with the light filtering through behind her from the single window, it was both calming and beautiful. It was strangely fitting to see Sora in a simple dress in the kitchen, and a young blonde boy at her side. "Takeru, is it?" Janine asked.

He nodded casually. "Yep, but you can call me TK, everybody does."

Janine smiled. "TK it is. Sora told me the greatest stories about you, Tai, and Kari."

Takeru's features brightened with childish delight. "Really? What stories? I want to know!"

"Maybe another time, for now, there are more important things at hand." She turned her attention to Sora, with a hand on her hips and an indescribable glint in her emerald eyes. "Now, are you going to tell me how your hair became so fashionable and where you were for almost an entire month?"

"Sora was at the palace!" Hikari yelled out cheerfully.

Sora only bit her lip, offered the best smile she could and busied herself with drinking tea.

"The palace!" Janine gave a small amused giggle. Whilst Sora was gone, at times they would make up wild stories as explanations for her disappearance. One of the more popular situations was that Sora and Prince Yamato had planned to elope and he had stolen her away quietly from her room. "Please Kari, do continue."

"The Prince saved her on his white horse and they fell in love!"

Janine burst out laughing as Sora blanched and choked wildly. "Kari!" She managed to cough out while she supported herself by the kitchen table.

Sensing that perhaps she said something that did not please Sora, Hikari slowly began moving towards the doorway. "'Tis true!" she defended loudly, "Sora had a glazed look in her eyes when she spoke of him. Just like Mama when she thought of Papa before she went."

The auburn haired woman frowned ever so slightly at the idea of being compared to a woman on her deathbed thinking about her deceased husband, but to her horror, the idea of her thinking about Yamato in her very last moments held a hint of appeal. Dear Lord, she always knew that Kari rarely missed anything, but this was simply frightening. Sora cleared her throat and gave Hikari a little playful glare that sent her running off with Takeru close behind. "All right Janine, sit down."

Janine laughed gaily as she pulled out a worn chair and sat down with her basket set neatly aside. "Remember, I want to know _everything_, right down to the feel of his lips. You _did_ kiss, did you not?"

"No, but I'm sure it would be heavenly," Sora said before her mind could register the words.

"I knew it! You _are _in love with him!"

"Yes, yes!" Sora threw up her hands. "Now are you going to let me tell you what happened, or will you sit there and draw your own conclusions?"

"Oh no dear, I prefer to draw my own conclusions when I'm alone at the mansion," she said matter-of-factly and gave Sora a quick wink. "Tell me!"

Smiling, Sora pulled out a chair facing Janine and seated herself. "I've told this story so many times today, I'm beginning to think I should write it into a book," she mumbled and then turned to her friend. "Where do I begin?"

**§**

Catherine hummed happily to herself as she walked down the empty corridors of the palace. She had just learned that the dreadful _Lady Takenouchi_, or so she claimed to be, had seemingly left the palace the evening before. She smiled to herself, pleased to think that her words had affected the other woman enough to force her to leave. Making her way to her bedchamber, Catherine quickly entered and closed the door behind her. She placed a hand on the strong mahogany and her other hand lingered on the handle, taking a moment to give herself a satisfied smirk.

"I've been waiting for you."

Catherine gasped and whirled around in the direction of the husky baritone voice. Her mouth fell open at the dangerously handsome blonde, leaning casually against one of the bedposts, arms crossed and head tilted with a lazy smile. A hesitant giggle came from Catherine as she made her way slowly across the room to where Yamato stood. She placed a hand carefully on his chest and gently pressed her well formed body against his, a tacit invitation. "If I had known you were here, I would have returned sooner," she whispered.

The Prince smiled lazily and moved his hand up Catherine's elbow in one swift stroke to her hand. She licked her lips and leaned forward, eager to taste his lips but was instead alarmed when Yamato's smile changed into a scowl and he torn her hand away from him in obvious disgust. "Miss Catherine Grant, pack your belongings."

She stared at him with wild distress written clearly on her attractive features. "My Prince? I—"

He ignored her easily and stalked towards the door. "You have until sundown. _Leave_; you have outstayed your welcome."

**AN:** Wow, that took a while didn't it? I'm sorry, I sorry! I actually rewrote the first three pages of this chapter about three times before I could stomach it, and no, that's not me being modest. It was appalling. I'll be busy for the next couple of days, but I wanted to get a head start on the next chapter before I posted this one up, so that way, hopefully another lapse where no one knows whether I'm alive or dead won't happen.

It always amazes me when people continue to read and review my stories. Thank you!


	10. Fate

**AN:** Getting a head start (I hope that still stands true when I upload this chapter). As maybe some people might've realized, i write the beginning AN at a different time than the AN at the bottom so i may contradict myself a few times. heh.

**Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.**

**

* * *

Chapter 10 – Fate **

It would be another two nights until Taichi would find himself waking to the sound of persistent pounding at the door. This time, he silently thanked God, Sora was there to answer the door, so he simply yawned loudly, pulled the covers up, and fell into a deep sleep while Sora rushed clumsily down the stairs, favoring her bad leg and cursing beneath her breath. Holding out her arms and narrowing her eyes in the dark, she managed to make it safely to the door with minor injuries.

"Janine!" Sora whispered loudly the moment she opened the door. Without another word, she ushered Janine upstairs to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Sora leaned against the oak door, noted her friend's tousled appearance and waited patiently for her to speak first— as Janine usually required little persuasion.

Janine's eyes were wide and she began pacing restlessly as there were just too many things she wanted to say at once. It finally came out in a jumble of words. "Catherinemanorballinvitationprincebride—"

"_Excuse me?_"

"Oh, Marianne and Sam wish you well," she said casually and plopped down on the small bed in the corner of the room."

Sora stared at Janine with a baffled look stamped clearly across her features. "That's… delightful… I wish them well, too."

"Aren't you the least bit concerned about what I told you?" Janine asked, sending Sora accusing looks.

The auburn haired woman choked out a laugh and ruffled her hair nervously. "Would you care to repeat it once more? It seems to have slipped my comprehension."

With a deep intake of breath, Janine began again, this time (thankfully) slower than the first. "The day I met you here, Catherine Grant was at the mansion when I returned." She dismissed Sora's surprise easily with a wave of her hand. "That's not even the half of it, turns out, she's not staying at the palace anymore. Needless to say, when she blamed it on you, Miss Miyako and her got along rather well and she invited the whore to dinner—Marianne and I gave her dinner a good spitting for you."

"Of course."

"She didn't mention why she's no longer staying at the palace, but Marianne, Sam and I suppose that it's too embarrassing to say—obviously the Prince cast her out, Marianne's very fond of him right now for doing that." Janine paused and smiled smugly, catching the smirk and quick glazing of the eyes that Sora attempted to hide.

"So, Miyako knows that I stayed at the castle."

"And the cow's absolutely livid! Put on a pretty good show right after Catherine left, throwing everything she could get her skinny little witch hands on—course, we had to clean up everything later, but it was all well worth it since she threw that expensive vase that Lady Inoue loved so much and then accidentally stepped on it while running around in her nightgown. _Very_ entertaining really."

Sora's smile didn't reach her eyes and when she spoke, it was in a careful whisper. "Janine?"

"Yes?"

"Miyako hasn't turned any of that anger on the three of you… has she? God, if any of you were hurt, I'd never forgive myse—"

"Sora!" Janine hissed loudly. "Stop it! None of us are hurt, and trust me, Miyako wouldn't dare hurt any of us—not after what happened with you. If, in the case that something _does_ happen, do not blame yourself. You are not responsible for what Miyako does, understand that."

Sora bit her lip and nodded. "I just feel awful for not having gone back to the mansion—"

"Oh please, I probably wouldn't have gone back either if a gorgeous Prince was waiting on me hand and foot all day." Janine smiled when she heard Sora laugh. "But that reminds me, Catherine asked the two cows if you were a Takenouchi. They avidly denied that and insisted it was a rumor."

"It's all right, didn't expect anything different—"

"And the Prince sent invitations for a ball to be held in two weeks so he may announce a bride there."

Sora's dark ruby eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "Excuse me?"

"Invitations have been sent to all the noble families. I should also mention that the Prince visited the mansion as well—it's been quite busy there actually. He asked to see you and the cow told the truth for once, said you weren't there and she hadn't the slightest hint where you were. Then she asked him what color she should wear to the ball. He looked at her and said, 'On you, Miss? I'm sure you'll be quite a catastrophe no matter which color you choose.'"

"You didn't tell him where I am, did you?" Sora asked once the giggling subsided.

Janine gave her a sly look and glanced away. "I was going to, but Marianne told me that I shouldn't. She said 'lovers' quarrels are best not disturbed.'" She paused to watch Sora's skin begin to resemble the color of a cherry before she continued, "He stayed behind to talk with me and Marianne in the kitchen for a few moments. Told us how much he wanted to find you—that's when I almost let it slip—and then said that he really didn't care about the other noblewomen, he only cared if you were at the ball or not. When he found out that you were gone, he asked that the ball be _three_ balls, on three separate nights and then he asked that masks be worn—and strictly not taken off during the ball. Told us that if he were forced to take a bride, he'd choose one on personality. Also mentioned that he'd know which one was you even if you were horribly disfigured."

Sora moved to sit by Janine on the bed as she listened to Janine's retelling of Yamato. A dreamy smile made its way onto her lips where it lingered, "What more did he say?" she asked, trying hard to hide her eagerness.

"Only that he was talking too much and he had to leave."

The dreamy smile left.

"Don't you see how much he loves you, Sora?"

"But… we don't—"

"I will _throttle_ you if you say something along the lines of 'we're too different' or 'we're not meant to be' or any other related rubbish. Obviously you _are_ meant to be, and people who are _that_ different don't end up falling in love!"

"But—"

"For someone so smart, I thought you'd have more common sense," Janine mumbled through clenched teeth. "I swear, I'll throttle you!" she threatened, making twisting motions with her hands.

Sora leaned back and laughed. "Then the Prince would find you and behead you."

"You admit it then! Please, why are you running away from fate?"

"You've never believed in fate."

"I believe in it now. Sora, would you tell me to hide my face if I fell in love with someone in a much higher class than I?"

"I'm not hiding my face…" Sora rationalized, instinctively straightening her back and shoulders.

"No? Tell me, would you ask me to do what you're doing now?"

"…No, I wouldn't."

"Attend the masked ball. On all three nights. Please, Sora."

"I… can't, I don't have an invitation."

"Miyako leaves hers in a box on her vanity. I could—"

"_No_. You believe in fate now, right?"

"Yes."

"Then if Fate agrees, hopefully I'll have an invitation in my hand before the ball starts."

"That is the _most_ rubbish—"

"I'll go."

"…You're really going?"

"If I have an invitation." Sora thought for a moment and added for good measure, "One that did _not_ belong to someone else."

"Ah, but can I do it for fun? I'd love to see the look on that cow's face when she finds her precious piece of paper gone. Oh, be sure to have a mask. No one is allowed entrance without an invitation _and_ a mask."

"I'll be sure to remember that."

Janine stood, reached her arms above her head and stretched, groaning loudly as she did so. She proceeded to dust herself off and straighten her clothing. "I'll be on my way now. Had to wait until they went to sleep before I could come, and who knows when I'll be sent to the markets again." They descended the stairs and slowly reached the door where Janine stalled to say a few words. "Good luck, Sora. I'll visit as often as I can, yes? Don't hesitate to ask me, Marianne, or Sam for help!"

"Thank you, Janine. I'm sorry, I don't have anything—"

"Excuse me, what _are_ you talking about? We know each other much better than that. Be safe, take care!"

Sora watched as Janine walked out into the darkness and slowly closed the door. She turned and suppressed a scream. Tai stood behind her, his hair messier than usual and eyes drooping with sleep depravity.

"Tai! Since when did you get so quiet?" Sora bit out with a hand placed protectively over her heart, afraid it would fall out on any given second.

He yawned loudly to Sora's dismay and shrugged. "Two of you should learn. Heard the entire conversation, you two were so loud."

Sora stayed silent and bit her lip with embarrassment. "So… you—"

"Prince Charming's waiting for you at that ball. Don't want to break his heart any more than you have already, do you?"

The auburn haired woman giggled gleefully as Taichi turned around with another yawn and trudged up the stairs.

"You know, you're pretty stupid for a smart lass," Sora heard him say just as he reached the last steps.

**§**

Yamato hadn't been sleeping well. Dreams were filled with images of the short-lived euphoria with Sora, nightmares were haunted by reality. Everyday and every time he woke, it would be the same routine: get up, take out the piece of paper Sora had left and read it, go back to sleep. It would continue on for a few more times, until finally, Yamato was forced to take Squall before the sun rose and rush off in search for Sora.

Now, as he glanced towards the pinkish hues in the horizon, the Prince could deny his defeat no longer. He had visited the forest spring, the mansion, the markets, wandered the kingdom like a petty thief, looking to steal back the one treasure he held dear. He asked any denizens he came across if they had ever seen an auburn haired woman, as Sora's specific hair coloring was quite unique, but the answer was always the same disappointing reply. Despite his own searching, Yamato wouldn't send out soldiers or people of any sort—Sora was no criminal and he'd die before he forced her against her own will, even if it meant breaking his. He could only pray that he'd find her and be able to persuade her to marry him.

But Yamato had searched long and far for her, always on an empty stomach and with tired eyes. Squall shook his mane, gaining the Prince's attention.

Yamato leaned forward. "Yes? Something you'd like to share?"

The horse's reply was another shake of its ivory mane and a neigh.

"I guess not, huh? You wouldn't by any chance know where she'd be, would you?" asked Yamato, with an odd hint of hope in his tone.

To his surprise, Squall seemed to grow restless and trotted in a neat circle.

"I should… keep going?"

Squall settled down.

"Keep my mind on other things?" Yamato leaned forward once more and whispered into the stallion's ear, as if there was a spy in the bushes eavesdropping. "Tell me," he hesitated for a brief moment but continued, slowly, "Do you think she might love me?"

Squall, who seemed to have the most common sense of all, raised and lowered its head in what could be made out as a "yes."

Having his stallion's confirmation seemed to be effectively satisfying for Yamato, and the prince immediately straightened his back and shoulders. "But not as a prince, no! As a man! Or perhaps," a gleam entered his cobalt eyes, "a lover."

A neigh.

"Good enough," said Yamato, who was genuinely pleased. It was then—believing that Sora loved him—could he think with a clear mind once more. "What am I doing?" he asked aloud. It was not only _invasive_ in a way, it was also futile to search for Sora. Different than giving up, it would be better to keep faith in Sora. A day without her was pain, but if he was to bring her any distress, that would be far worse. He loved her; he'd most likely continue loving her, and if she did not wish to return to his arms quite at the moment, he would then spend eternity waiting for her—and if I'm forced to, I'll simply marry a distant cousin ten years from now." He shuddered at the latter thought.

Yamato gave Squall a light nudge in the direction of the palace, signifying the decision to return.

**§**

Sora sat in an old wooden chair, hunched over and working meticulously in the brilliant sunlight that streamed through a modest window. Richly dark fabrics, vibrant decorative beads, ribbons, fashionable laces of white and silver, and a generous amount of ornate feathers were littered about on the oak tabletop—all purchased by Sora when she had finally dared to venture outside.

Of course, during her adventure in the markets, whom else would she see but the prince? Sora had paid the merchant in record-breaking time, begged that he not give away her whereabouts to anyone who asked (this took a few more coins), and proceeded to make a mad dash for the butcher shop—limping lightly but nevertheless looking like an idiot in the process.

Gazing down at the sparkling beads and thread on the tabletop now, Sora could have laughed at her own behavior. She was hiding from the very man she was jumping stone walls to see. Then again, she mentally scolded, she wouldn't have to be jumping anything if she'd just stayed at the palace. _Why did God have to give me a broken conscience?_

Sora was beginning to think that Janine and Taichi were right, she really did seem to lack a lot of common sense when it came to matters pertaining to herself. But there was no way to change what already happened, one had to look forward to and work to change the future. She stared down at the fabrics in her hand and frowned, coming to terms that as gifted she was with crafts, she had absolutely no idea how to make a mask. Sora suppressed a groan, no doubt would the others attend the ball with masks of the most dazzling fashion. As the prince had declared no desire to see their faces, it was only logical that the masks represent their radiance.

Sora had inherited her father's stubbornness and resolved to continue on with the mask. Obviously, she could not afford one that the other ladies such as Catherine Grant could. Simply, Sora reasoned with herself, unlike the masks of the others that would be molded and crafted to fit onto their features, Sora's would have to be tied and cut to snuggly fit onto her face. _A few more ribbons, that's all; everyone loves ribbons._

Hours later, Sora had decided that ribbons were silky death traps for the foolish. She stretched her arms and stood to lean lazily out the open window, resting her elbows carefully on the ledge. It was late in the afternoon, noted by the reddish-orange tones in the sky that blanketed the small town in a warm glow. Taking a deep breath and smiling languorously, already forgetting about the traitorous ribbons, Sora glanced down upon hearing joyous shrieks coming from the ground.

Hikari and Takeru were playing, running around like wild animals, much like Sora once did with Taichi in the gardens of the mansion. She leaned against the window and watched the two play like "lost maggots" to use Taichi's odd wording. Unawares of how much time had passed, Sora started staring off in a daze until a sudden cry broke her out of the romantic daydreams. Alert, she scanned the ground from the window and realized with ease that Kari had simply bumped into a stranger while lost in their games.

Sora relaxed when the lanky blue-haired man bent down to help Kari off the ground and returned to her daydreams, noting in the back of her mind that blue was startlingly familiar. She was interrupted once again when a sharp pain jolted up from her bad leg. _That's odd, I may limp, but after Joe healed—_ Sora stuck her head out the window once more at an alarming speed and glanced down into the streets to find that the blue-haired "stranger" was currently what seemed to be tending to Kari's leg. Though there didn't seem to be any wounds, Sora supposed there must've been if Kari, who seldom even uttered a whimper, was bawling like a newborn.

At that moment, as Sora leaned over the window and reflected how oddly things were starting, Joe decided for no particular reason, to glance heavenwards. As their eyes met, Sora did the first thing that came into her mind; she waved.

**§**

"Hiroaki!"

The king suppressed to shudder at the sound of the booming voice in the halls of the palace. His wife rolled her eyes discreetly and busied herself with some of the flowers in a nearby vase.

Lord Grant's behavior was nothing short of what King Hiroaki had expected. When he learned that his son had cast Miss Catherine out of the palace, Hiroaki knew her father would come to settle things. He groaned and brought up a hand to shield his eyes as the double doors were flung open with such a force that a few of the nearby vases shook.

"My _daughter_ has shut herself in her chambers and has been doing nothing but cry. She tells me, that your _son_, the _prince_, told her she had outstayed her welcome and demanded that she pack her bags. Of course, this is _after_ I learn that there is a ball—no, _three balls_ to be held for the very prince to take up a bride." Lord Grant's voice was loud and commanding as it echoed through the room in thunderous waves.

King Hiroaki's voice was quite the opposite and had in fact, risen an octave if anything. "Lord Grant, you must understand, they're young, they like to do as they—"

"Do you not have _any_ control over that son of yours!"

Queen Natsuko was prepared to let her husband drown, but talking in such tones of her son? That was unheard of.

"You're a king for God's sake!"

"I'm glad you're aware of that." Natsuko's voice cut Lord Grant short. "Seeing that you have skipped on the formalities."

Hiroaki was positively beet red in the face and if one didn't know any better, he could have easily been mistaken for one who had overindulged in wine.

Lord Grant sent the queen a glare (one that she made a mental note of), but nevertheless leashed his anger and ego long enough to take a bow and greet the king and queen formally.

"That wasn't too hard, was it?" Natsuko continued on, giving no regards to Lord Grant's ego. "I trust that I do not have to remind you that this _son_ of ours is in fact, the prince who will one day rule in Hiroaki's place." She paused and added, "And Yamato will not simply bend over like _some_ kings would," beneath her breath, just loud enough for her husband to hear and turn an even darker shade. Forget the beets, prune juice was more like it.

"Queen Natsuko, I am simply a father concerned for his daughter's well being. She is most distraught at the moment," said Lord Grant. He had wittingly taken a new approach to the situation.

"The question is now this: is she too distraught to marry him now?" the queen continued, easily dismissing the quizzical looks she received. "True, she may not be on good terms with Prince Yamato, but may I remind you, the ball is to be an engagement ball. He has not yet announced a bride. Your daughter still possesses an invitation, am I correct?" She paused, not nearly long enough for Lord Grant to confirm the statement. "She's not _banned_ from the palace. If Miss Catherine so wishes, she is still welcome to come to the masquerade. Everything else is unfortunately out of our hands."

* * *

Taichi's ceiling was much plainer than the gold leafed ceilings of the palace, Sora dully noted in the back of her mind as she continued to stare. The bed she was sleeping on was harder and had a faint mucky scent, unlike the luxurious pillows and covers in the palace. Though, as heavenly as the palace life appealed to be, _that_ was the least of her concerns. Scented pillows meant nothing if Yamato wasn't the one who would be lying next to her. The thought that followed made Sora blush to her toes. 

The prince had been the only thing on her mind for the past week. It did not help, that Joe had mentioned how miserable and low in spirits Yamato had appeared when he was called to the palace. The king had positively _swore_ that his morning tea was drugged, no doubt Lord Grant's doing. Queen Natsuko, who had grown steadily more tired of her husband's hysterics, summoned for Joe in order to hopefully put his nerves to rest once and for all.

As fate would have it, Joe was returning from the palace when Hikari had run into him in the streets. The next thing, he was sitting upstairs nursing a cup of tea in his hands and listening to Sora's explanations. His eyes fell on the small pile of crafting materials on the worn tabletop and hid a smile behind the rim of his cup.

"Did you hear about the ball?" He asked casually.

At his words, Sora became suddenly interested in the hardwood floors of Taichi's home. "I have been hearing of little else," she answered.

"I'm sure it will be most grand. The palace was _buzzing_ with anticipation." Joe continued on, observing Sora's reaction closely.

"Actually, er… I was hoping to go."

The young doctor's smile widened, "I'm sure the prince would be ecstatic upon hearing the news."

"Oh don't tell him please!" Sora pleaded uncharacteristically.

"No?" Joe asked, but then nodded, as he understood her intentions. "Ah, you'd like to see how genuine his love is for you?"

She blushed. "I'd just… like to know if we're meant to be."

"There's no doubt about it, but tell me, how do you plan on going?"

A frown marred Sora's features.

"If his royal highness does not know of your plans, how can he possibly send you an invitation?"

"Uh… I'm still pondering on that."

"No worries, as I am sure things will work out." Said Joe, a different, more mischievous smirk on his lips this time. "Is that the mask?"

Sora turned her head in the direction of his gaze and blushed lightly at the sight of the mess. "That is a great misconception, but hopefully with time it can pass as one."

"Would you like me to buy you one?" The doctor offered.

"No!" came Sora's fervent reply. "I couldn't possibly."

To her surprise, Joe only chuckled. "I may not live like a king or so to speak, but I have made a small fortune, luckily, I am a much better doctor than I am a conversationalist. The matter is simply, would you like one?"

Sora merely smiled and shook her head. "Actually, I was hoping of designing it myself. It seems so much more… _meaningful_ that way. I do wish, however, that I could make it into a mold of a face instead of a limp piece of cloth." _With a lot of ribbons_, she added mentally.

"I think I may be able to find an undecorated mask." Joe touched his chin as he thought.

"Could you? That would be most wonderful."

"I would be honored to be entrusted with the task," said Joe as he set down his cup and stood, brushing his clothing and smoothing them out. "I must be on my way—no, don't stand—I am very capable of showing myself out, don't worry."

Once outside, Joe walked along the road, thinking how exciting it would be for a change to play matchmaker.

**§**

"Sora! It is so unlike you to sleep in late!"

The maiden in bed stirred and sluggishly brought up the covers above her head. Having been thinking of Yamato and the encounter with Joe that had taken place almost a week ago, sleep did not come until the sun had started to rise. "Go away Janine, I've had a restless night," she mumbled half-heartedly.

Her friend however, seemed to know exactly what was on her mind and smirked triumphantly. "Thinking about the prince, I presume?"

"He is perfect. I hate him for being so."

"No you don't."

"No, I love him for it. Now let me sleep."

"But—"

"Sora!"

Suppressing a groan, Sora lifted the covers and yelled, "Yes Kari?"

"Someone's here to see you!"

Hikari's footsteps were heard pounding up the stairs and into the small bedroom. She ran to Sora's beside and plopped down besides her. "It's the man with blue hair!" she whispered excitedly into Sora's ear.

She sat up like an arrow and directed her immediate attention to the doorway where a bashful Joe was standing, looking anywhere but the bed and the improperly dressed Sora in her nightgown. The embarrassment only lingered for a second when she realized Joe's gaze had found Janine, currently giggling at the situation.

The brunette's giggles ceased instantly at the sly smirk that found its way onto Sora's lips. She looked away from her friend, met the eyes of the tall stranger, and blushed.

"Janine," Sora said in an overly sweet tone and added a wink as well, "This is Yamato's good friend and brilliant doctor, Joe Kido. Joe, Janine is one of my best friends from the mansion."

Joe bowed politely and seemed to have lost his voice. It sounded as if Sora had an underlying meaning in her words, but at the moment it was hard to comprehend anything.

The redhead exchanged looks with an equally amused Hikari and yawned. She stretched her arms and lied back down on the bed, pulling up the covers to keep her modesty. "You two can keep staring at each other as I get some sleep."

Janine blinked. "Wh-what? Sora! You have a guest!" she stammered.

"I'm sure you can attend to his needs, Janine."

"_What!_" She blushed at the words. "Sora, it is much too late to be sleeping!" When there was no reply from her friend, Janine grew frustrated and gave an adorable pout that did not go unnoticed by the good doctor. "Fine! I'll leave."

"Well actually, I cannot stay for long. I only came to drop off these," said Joe. He held out the promised mask and a card when Sora opened her eyes.

For the second time since Joe arrived, she shot up from the bed. Sora merely stared at the items, more specifically, the card that appeared to be almost illuminated in the sunlight. "Is that…"

Joe chuckled and placed the mask and invitation in her hand. "It appears that I have a _cousin_ that would just die to go to the palace ball. Being on such good terms with the prince does have its rewards."

Sora lowered her head to examine the invitation she held, not daring to believe her good luck. When she lifted her head to thank Joe, he was startled to find unshed tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she choked out.

Hikari stared up at the young woman and misinterpreting her strained voice and shallow breaths to be signs of sorrow rather than joy, began patting Sora on the back with her small hands. More to Joe's surprise however, he heard laughter from the corner of the room where Janine was seated.

When she realized his attention was focused on her, she blushed and moved to Sora's side to give her friend a warm hug. "I've never heard seen this girl get so emotional like this, and I've known her for ages," she explained with mirth in her eyes. When Joe replied with a chuckle, her blush only darkened. "You've really learned how to _live_, Sora," said Janine, her attention back on her friend.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" The wide grin she wore dismissed any notions of unpleasantness in her tone. Sora gave a loud sniff, but her eyes were amazingly dry. "Now, I don't think I should keep you two longer than I already have. As you've mentioned, you both have places to be—"

"I was just—" Janine interrupted, guessing what Sora had on her mind.

"No, no, _both_ of you have things you need to attend to. It is only right that I show you to the door, _together_, of course."

Joe coughed and tried to hide his burning ears as he moved obligingly to the stairs. Janine followed closely, being pushed out of the room by an all too eager Sora. "Excuse me for not walking with you to the door in my nightgown. Have fun children and remember, play safely!" she yelled loudly before slamming her door shut and leaving the awkward couple on the stairs.

Inside the room, Kari watched with interest as Sora ran her fingers along the neatly handwritten words on the invitation card. Could it be real? Not a figment of her imagination that she had worked up in her daily daydreams, but real.

"Kari, am I still asleep?"

The little girl frowned, confusion etched in her adorable features. "I don't think so. Do you sleep with your eyes open?"

Sora laughed; from anyone else, the words would have sounded crude. "No, I'm quite sure I sleep with my eyes firmly closed. But I feel like I am still dreaming."

"No you are not—see?" she reached over and pinched Sora on the arm. Noticing the look she was receiving, Hikari quickly explained, "Taichi does it all the time to me when I don't pay attention to him."

"Oh _does_ he now?"

"Yeah, but I bite him."

"Well good for you, he deserves it, you know."

Hikari giggled and skipped to the door where she announced that she had made plans with Takeru. Sora watched as the little girl grinned and closed the door behind her with a firm _click_. The moment she left, Sora released a wistful sigh and fell onto the bell with the invitation card pressed firmly onto her chest. She could allow herself to procrastinate and dream a few more hours, optimistic that the mask couldn't possibly take _that_ long.

**§**

Yamato sat in the throne room with his mother as people entered regularly, asking for their preference on aesthetic matters.

"You've been looking better this past week, Yamato." The queen stated. "Have you found her yet?"

"No. I've decided to love her until I grow old and toothless," he said with a sigh.

"As romantic as that sounds, I would much more prefer you continue the plan once she has become your bride. But, oh! How will she attend?"

"I should simply stand with the guards for the entire night, waiting for her."

Natsuko glowed with pride. "My son is such a romantic."

"But the oddest thing, Joe came and asked for an invitation the other day."

"Really? For whom?"

"His cousin."

"Oh, really? Well, I'm sure she will be a lovely lady."

"The odd thing is, I've never heard him speak of this cousin. I've never heard him speak of _any_ cousin."

"I see. Perhaps then, Joe is slightly more mischievous than we gave him credit for."

"My thoughts exactly."

**

* * *

AN: **I hope I did not disappoint! Well really, not very exciting, ha! I decided to make this chapter longer so I could get straight to the ball in the next chapter. Let me just say now, there **is **a fairy godmother. It was just too fun to _not _write one in! It's almost the end of the story, I think some lightening up would be good, no? Though I must admit, adding a fairy godmother is a bit sudden and brings the story a little off pace—well, a lot off pace actually. 

**if anyone** doesn't think there should be a fairy godmother, feel free to tell me please!

Thank you for **200** reviews! Oh, i'm going to cry. ;)


	11. Believe

**AN:** Is it just me, or is it really confusing to update? Tell me I'm not the only one who has to click around for five minutes.

**TheLadyKnight**: Ah, you're ahead of me! (shhhhh, keep it low about the fairy godmother).

**Bnehlacc Rikku: **I actually studied Spanish for four years (it's been years though), but I was able to make out most of what you said. ;) Thanks!

**Miss Dee Ex Jay:** I'm really glad that you liked Joe and the idea of him together with Janine, it was more of a random thing on my part. ;) I'm sorry to say though, that the amount of people who had supported a fairy godmother was greater. I really appreciate you giving your opinion and I kept in mind not to get too absorbed into the fairy issue. Actually, it was either have a fairy godmother or have Izzy show up and work his own type of "magic," which probably would have made more sense, but the fairy godmother was just too fun to not write. Thank you for the review!

**Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven – Believe**

Sora choked and waved her hands in wild panic as a heavy pillow fell squarely on her face. Throwing away the object against the farthest wall, she cracked her eyes open in what could be classified as a glare.

A deep laugh followed. "What are you doing in bed? You should be getting ready for the ball."

She gave a groan and turned over onto her side, curling up her legs on the bed as she did so. "I'm not going!"

Taichi's face went blank, unsure of whether to laugh or scold. "Elaborate."

"I'm not ready."

"And you won't be unless you move."

"You don't understand, Tai. I'm not ready, and there's no way that I can _be_ ready."

"But you have a mask, you've been working on this mask like a mad woman!" Taichi yelled as he walked towards the small tattered table and picked up the object as if she needed specification. The mask was a piece of magnificence—after Joe had delivered the much needed base, of course. The edges were traced in elegant shimmering silver, scattered and adorned with a gleaming substance that Taichi could not identify. With the base colored a luxurious dark that struck him as black in the shadows and a gorgeous navy in the light, the mask held together with the overall appeal of superb contrast and stunning designs. Taichi shook his head and tossed the item to Sora.

She sat up in the bed with a sheet wrapped around her slender frame and reached out a hand to trace the planes of the mask, a longing look in her eyes. "I so wanted to go," she whispered.

The chestnut haired man crossed his arms idly. "I don't see why you can't. Look, you have a mask!"

Sora didn't know whether to be annoyed at Taichi's lack of understanding for womanly needs or to laugh—she settled for the latter. "Oh Tai, I can't go to the ball with just a mask—"

"That's right, girl!"

The occupants of the room snapped their heads towards the doorway where the girlish voice had come from. Two jaws hung open at the woman who had appeared. She walked into the room, glancing around and poking random objects with a slender white "pointing tool." "—can't go to a masquerade ball with just a mask and a fancy piece of paper! Girl, it's all about the fashion, you have to dazzle that prince!" she continued, completely disregarding their shocked expressions as if it was any other day.

Sora blinked, unsure if what she was hearing and seeing tangible. The stranger who had appeared was fascinatingly… shiny. If Sora didn't know better, she could have sworn that the woman was glowing. Glimmering pink streaks were positioned throughout her hair that cascaded down her back and overlapped the pink gown the woman wore. A soft pastel pink, the dress was definitely of a fashion that Sora had not laid eyes on before. The front was in the design of a low V, as was the back, and a rough, transparent silk was layered over the entire skirt from the pink silk sash that was wrapped around her slender waist. The woman's arms were left untraditionally bare.

Taichi was the first to find his voice. "Excuse me, who—"

"Oh! Did I forget to introduce myself again? They keep telling me, but I just get _so_ caught up with the—oh my gosh!" she screamed.

Sora laughed as Taichi noticeably jumped a few inches into the air, but the smile disappeared as quickly as it came when the pink haired woman rounded on Sora, an angry flair in her eyes.

"What are you doing! You should be getting ready, girl!" She turned to Taichi and shooed him out with a wave of the thin white rod in her hand. Sora blinked in an effort to keep her eyes from falling out of their sockets as she watched Taichi _float_ to the door just before it slammed shut. "Can't have a guy in the room when you change now can you?" she said with a wink.

Sora gave a small nod. "I'm sorr—"

"Oops, hi girl, my name's Mimi. I'm your fairy godsister."

"Fairy god… sister?"

Mimi clicked her tongue in an irked manner. "Okay, god_mother_, but just look at me girl, I'm not ready to be anyone's _mother_. I'm way too young and beautiful."

There was a pause as Mimi walked around the room, examining things and Sora searched her mind for anything to say. "Uh… fairies?" She mentally slapped herself. _Brilliant._

"Sure." The glistening woman gave a casual shrug. "Don't check for wings, 'cuz you won't find any, girl."

"Why do you keep calling me 'girl'?"

"Well don't expect me to do a one-eighty after spending all that time in the twenty-first century."

Sora swallowed audibly and she was sure her eyes would surely fall out by the end of the night. "What?" she choked.

"Oh that Victoria is always asking for some secrets of mine. Really, she wouldn't be—oops sorry dear, got carried away again." Mimi stopped for a moment and brought up her pointing rod under her chin, seemingly deep in thought. "Well I know it's hard to believe, but I _know _that you do. You're a special girl, Sora, that's why I'm here. In fact, Fate's very fond of you, she's a good friend of mine—anyways, let me explain. I know that for years you've always believed in… magic." She held up her hand and continued before Sora could protest. "Taking a wild guess, you probably always felt that there was something else, something _more_ right? Something you couldn't understand, like the spring in the forest."

"The spring?"

"Why do you think you're so comfortable there, girl? Not just anyone can find it."

A slow smile crept up on Sora's lips as acceptance and understanding slowly dawned on her. Even if the woman in front of her wasn't a _fairy_, it was clear that she was something beyond ordinary. Setting aside all rational thought, Sora made a decision to believe.

"So, you ready to go to that ball?"

"But I don't have—"

"Really girl, what do you think this thing is? A pointing rod?" Mimi motioned to the white rod in her hand and Sora looked away, clearing her throat loudly. "Oh girl, haven't you heard of Harry Po—it's a wand."

"A wand!"

"Right, so just leave it to Meems! They don't call me the fashion fairy for nothin'."

"They do?"

"Well of course, just look at this dress I have on—"

"It's really—"

"Gorgeous, isn't it?"

"—shocking."

"Well girl, it's _Vera Wang!_"

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, she's a fabulous designer."

"A designer?" asked Sora. Mimi caught the gleam that lit up in her eyes.

"Well, I just _know_ you and I are going to get along famously." She looked Sora from head to toe and promptly declared, "I think pink."  
Sora blinked. "Pink?"

"For the dress!"

There was a moment when Sora didn't know whether to tell Mimi she would have preferred a slightly different color, or to just let the magical being do as she pleased. Before she could decide on which path of action to take, Mimi had brought Sora up to a standing position with her wand and she felt something heavy enveloping around her body.

It was a cool, breezy sensation, gone as soon as it had come and leaving Sora standing with a ball gown that would make Catherine Grant and Miyako green. Looking down, Sora sighed with relief at the sunset rose color that met her eyes.

"I thought maybe something _too_ pink might not suit you all too well—take a look, what do you think?" Mimi insisted with a wave of her ivory wand. A colossal three panel mirror filled the room before Sora's eyes. "The room is a bit small, a girl knows you have to have the right space for a mirror."

Taking a step forward, Sora could scarcely believe the woman in the mirror was her. A rectangular opening led into slender fitting sleeves and a very appealing bodice that showed off her curves quite efficiently. The bodice glittered with dazzling beads, which met a wide satin skirt that swished to and fro with her movements. Much like Mimi's own dress, a fine, see-through thin silk layer covered most of the skirt; only this silk was a soft yellow color over the smooth rosy peach of the skirts.

Sora opened her mouth and closed it at a complete loss of words. When she spoke, it came as a raspy croak, "Um… thank you."

Mimi laughed fondly at her hoarse gratitude. "Always happens the first time." She crossed her arms and circled around Sora. "I know most people put on the dress last, but like I always say, it's _you_ that has to match the dress, not the other way around, girl." She flipped at Sora's hair curiously. "My, he _is_ talented. Too bad."

Before Sora could register what Mimi had said, she had waved her wand and Sora watched her reflection in the mirror, once again feeling the strain behind her eyes as they threatened to fall from their hollows. Her auburn hair, in all its silken glory, had grown like animated vines until luscious waves tumbled down Sora's back once more—only now, soft yellow-peach ribbons entwined with the strands, holding a portion of her hair back.

Mimi nodded with approval. "I wasn't too sure that the yellow ribbons would work, but they're perfect."

Sora fingered her hair hesitantly as if the slightest touch would destroy the delicate magic. "How—" no, wrong question, "Why—" no, dumb question, "Where—" no, irrelevant question. She closed her mouth and smiled, settling on a silent thanks.

"Well, didn't want you to stand out _too_ much with your hair so short. Besides, would you like it better if the prince didn't recognize you immediately? Wasn't that what you were going for? To see if he truly loves you for who you are?"

Fiery brows rose.

"Twenty-first century, it's pretty common," explained Mimi with a wink. "Okay girl, time to accessorize."

Sora brought her hands up to the pendant that had snuck beneath her bodice and traced the chain until her fingers met with the small clasp. Taking off the necklace, she set it atop the worn table. Just for that night, it would be better if Yamato did not recognize her immediately. Wearing the necklace would only be a claim to her identity. Was it cruel? No. She shook her head; besides, what was the alternative? Walk up and say, "Hey, sorry I ran from the palace, but I'm here now, so let's get married!" No, it would be much better to attend as just another guest.

"Are you done daydreaming?" Mimi's clear soprano broke through Sora's inner conflictions easily. She blinked rapidly and straightened her back, turning to smile at her new fairy "godsister."

"I'm done."

"Great, come over here and stand up straight." Mimi waited until Sora did as beckoned. With barely even a twitch of the wand, Sora felt a cool weight on her neck. Elegant gold earrings dangled from her ears, matching with the gold around her slender neck, inset with pink diamonds. Gold bracelets of the same fashion circled her wrists and it occurred to Sora that the ensemble was probably worth quite a bit more than her. She shivered with the thought, suddenly growing a bit self-conscious.

"Don't you think it might be a little too much, Mimi?" she offered.

The other woman let out a laugh and shook her head. "Not at all compared to what those other girls are probably wearing. In fact, I don't think your dress is quite risqué enough."

Sora forced a hesitant laugh. "That's quite all right, I love it the way it is."

Mimi lifted her chin and smiled with a hint of good-natured superiority. "Now girl, if you don't mind, can you take a few steps around the room to test out your new shoes?"

"New sho—" Sora's words were cut off abruptly with a gasp as she suddenly felt her posture straighten due to some new height added to her heels. A few more steps toward the bed and Sora felt a difference in the way she walked. Her dark eyes flickered to Mimi just as she took a seat on the hard bed and slowly lifted the skirts of the gown. A pair of glossy, semi-translucent slippers had formed snugly around her feet and Sora had to wonder how the glass could sustain her weight. She lifted her dress hems further, much more slowly this time, for she was too filled with anxiety drumming her heart.

Sora glanced down at her legs, searching for the imperfection along her right leg that Miyako had left, but there was none. She touched her leg gingerly; ran a finger down along the calf feeling for the scar. It was one of those moments you realize how much of a gift everything was in life—the ability to see, hear, touch, feel, sing, talk, smell, taste, _walk_. Those mundane qualities were as much gifts to treasure, as was one's extreme wealth; in their own way, they _were_ wealth.

Sora hadn't lost her leg, or the ability to walk, but being rid of odd struts and uncontrollable jolts in her step was suddenly a heaven in its own. She grinned widely at Mimi, her eyes sparkling with glee, unable to contain her radiating bliss.

Mimi winked and held her hand to stop Sora before she could speak. "Don't thank me, remember, I'm the _fashion_ fairy—don't want to make a living off of _healing_ people, right girl? Just tell me a couple more times how much you love the dress."

For the first time she could remember, Sora _squealed_ with excitement and lunged at her fairy godsister, giggling with as much girlish joy as she was capable of.

The door burst open as Tai rushed in, having heard the commotion. He stopped just at the doorway, mouth open. "Wow," he whispered, looking Sora from head to toe. He opened his mouth again as logic slowly filtered back but decided against it. "I won't ask. Never thought a lass like you could look… like that."

The two women contained their laughter as they watched Taichi retreat, closing the door behind him.

"I'll be back late!" Sora shouted after him. It was barely audible, but she heard him grunt in reply.

"Girl, if you don't hurry up, you're going to attend the _ball_ late," said Mimi with her free hand placed firmly on her hip.

"How am I to attend?"

"That's already been prepared—and not by me. Really girl, what do you expect me to do, turn pumpkins into carriages?" Mimi paused for a moment, recalling something. "Darn Disney…" she muttered quietly.

"What?"

"Oh nothing dear, but those slippers you have on—"

"Are you sure the glass won't crack?"

"Of course I'm sure! It's faerie glass! Besides, those shoes are my favorite things about your outfit! No way are you getting yourself out of _that_. Trust me, _everyone_ will notice—oh look, your carriage is here," she tilted her head towards the window and Sora obliged.

Just below, looking completely out of place in front of a butcher shop, was a grand ivory colored carriage. At least, she guessed it to be ivory; it stood out like dimming embers with a soft topaz glow in the dark. "Where—"

"It's from Joe. He's pretty nice, isn't he?"

"Too nice."

"No such thing, now hurry before you miss the ball. Really, I didn't think it was going to take so long to get you ready, but then again, a girl does need proper time when it comes to her appearance so you can't rush these things."

Sora circled her arms around the other woman affectionately. "Thank you Mimi, I don't know what else I can do but thank you," she said after pulling away.

"Just be sure to get your man or I'll never be able to forgive you!"

"Of course!" In the excitement, Sora had almost forgotten the mask. She grabbed the piece and placed it over the upper portion of her face, covering her eyes and completing the ensemble, earning an approving smile from Mimi.

"By the way, it's all yours. The dress, the earrings, the shoes, everything." Mimi informed her casually as they made their way down the stairs.

Sora rubbed her eyes—dangerous on the stairs, yes, but the straining sensation was returning. If the surprises didn't stop, she was going to meet Yamato with a migraine.

Mimi laughed. "Don't worry, no more surprises. I'll see you tomorrow. Now go, your prince awaits."

Taichi stood by the carriage door, ignoring the footman and offered Sora his hand. She laughed and smiled brilliantly, placing her hand in his and plopping down on the cushioned red seats of the ivory coach. The door closed and the coachman nodded politely before sending off the horses with a crack of his whip. Sora turned in her seat, sticking her hands unceremoniously out the window, waving as widely as she could to Taichi and Mimi as they watched her speed off. It looked as if the woman was dabbing her eyes with a small handkerchief, but with another blink of the eye, she was gone and Taichi was left standing alone, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

**§**

"Lady Glendale, the pleasure is mine." _Yes, I do know I have blue eyes. Thank you, thank you, now move along please,_ Yamato thought sarcastically with a grin plastered on his face. He watched, amused, as Lady Glendale's fair features contorted with bewilderment and something akin to disgust as she laid eyes on what was behind Yamato. "Let me introduce you, this is Squall, my most prized stallion." Lady Glendale cracked a weak smile and hurried into the palace.

It was odd, surprising, pleasing, and untraditional all at once to see the prince by the gates with his horse, greeting all the guests that attended. As promised, Yamato stood by his guards, hoping to catch a glimpse of an auburn haired beauty. Squall was there—after being promised an extra bucket of carrots—to endure the same torture. As odd as people found it, Yamato valued his horse's opinion and trusted it to no ends.

A brilliant white carriage pulled by an amazing six horses slowed to a stop before the palace gates. The guards exchanged looks and watched as the footman held the door open. _What hideous shoes_, was the first thought that came to Yamato's mind as a pair of slender legs emerged, the woman's dress hauled provocatively to her knees. Down stepped Catherine Grant, cleavage and all.

Yamato clenched his jaw instinctively at the sight of the woman he had thrown out from the palace; his mother had warned him that night to let her into the ball. It was hard to _not_ recognize the woman behind the mask—not many would dare to _show_ so much. "Miss Catherine Grant," he simply stated after she handed the guards her invitation and headed his way.

Catherine flashed a dazzling smile with the knowledge that he recognized her, but it quickly faltered as disappointment settled. He offered no compliments of her new gown, made from the finest gold fabrics and beads. Her hair, beautiful as it was, was captured in a tight braided bun with her bangs allowed to fall freely. Her mask was needless to say, elaborate and stunning. It was of a fine gold that matched her dress and lined with small pearls. She stepped up to the prince, made a low curtsy, remembering never to remove her clear blue eyes from his darker ones and making sure to lean forward with her chest as much as she could. "My prince. I'm flattered that you can recognize me, even behind this mask," said Catherine in a suggestive tone.

"The floor is not clean. If you lean forward any more, I'm afraid you'll fall, Miss Grant."

With a sharp intake of breath she straightened up, head held up high. "Thank you, your highness."

Behind her Squall made a loud sneezing sound. Catherine jumped around with her eyes wide and a hand held over her chest. "What is _that_?"

"_That_ is my horse, Miss."

"Oh."

"The rest of the guests are inside the palace. If you'll excuse me, I must greet the ones just arriving." Yamato gave a vexed sigh as Catherine walked towards the palace and turned to the next carriage that arrived. _My God, what are these women thinking?_ He wondered as a bright, deep pink coach stopped before the guards—this time, they snickered.

Her legs were not bared dangerously to the knees, but Yamato _did _catch a glimpse of her calves as she slipped down from the carriage and her dress slipped up. She was dressed in a dark pink that almost matched the vehicle and her lavender hair was done in a fashionable twist, accompanied by large pink roses. Yamato squinted his eyes against the light reflected at him off the excessive glitter that was used on her mask.

She smiled. "You highness."

Yamato scowled, her voice reminded him of a goose. There weren't many people who could make that impression on him. At least she had the decency to step off a carriage like a normal person. "Miss Miyako Inoue?"

Her mouth widened and she leaned forward eagerly. Yamato blinked wildly against the light she literally radiated with. "Your highness, I am flattered!"

"Yes, good… um… go inside, please," he mumbled. Squall would probably kill her with a hoof. It wasn't a bad idea actually, considering she was the girl who made Sora's life a hellhole, but it would be much too messy. Perhaps later.

Miyako frowned, "But—"

"Please!" Yamato shouted, all too eager to get her inside and away from his suffering eyes.

Much like Catherine, Miyako took a sharp intake of breath and stormed inside.

Yamato sighed. Five minutes later, he was growing impatient, thinking that the guests had all arrived. It was then, that a modest ivory coach, pulled by two white horses (Squall neighed with approval) stopped before the palace. Yamato's eyebrows raised as the young woman inside opened the door, startling the footman, and then apologizing to him, obviously forgetting that it was his job. When she emerged from the carriage, she held her dress firmly, making sure as little of her legs were seen. A glint caught Yamato's eyes just before she dropped her sunset rose skirts and planted her feel firmly on the floor. If he didn't know better, her slippers looked as if they were made of glass.

His breath caught as he got his first good look at her. Her auburn hair mesmerized him and Squall had stopped his lazy trotting. The color was familiar, imprinted into his mind, but not the style. She handed her invitation to the guards who each sent her warm smiles, which she reciprocated and for a brief instant, Yamato would have given his right arm to be one of them.

He could tell she was nervous and rattled as she walked towards him. Her walk was perfect, no sign of a limp or any other injuries, but Yamato couldn't stop the nagging feeling that he _knew_ her. She didn't look up to meet his eyes, but gave a small polite curtsy nonetheless. Yamato bowed low, trying to will her eyes to his.

He caught it for a mere second before she glanced away. Her voice was soft and reminded him of sweet honey. Not many people had _that_ effect on him either. "Sora?" he whispered, barely audibly.

She heard, and Sora felt her entire body tense. Her mind tingled with something she could not describe and she felt her cheeks heat up.

Yamato felt her hesitation and quickly amended his mistake. "My apologies, that was rude of me." He turned to Squall, ready to introduce the two, but found the horse already stepping forward to nuzzle her affectionately. Her laughter rang out like wind chimes.

"Hi Squall," she said softly into the horse's ear but realized her mistake the moment she let the words slip.

Yamato's breath hitched in his throat. Everything about the woman told him it was Sora, told him that he knew exactly who it was, but he was not about to force it out of her. In two weeks time, was it possible to grow a foot of hair and cure a permanent limp? Yamato set the thought aside as he watched her stroke Squall lovingly and his hand itched to do the same to her hair. She _was_ magic and he was ready to believe anything to be with her again.

Sora was currently wondering why she was born with auburn hair. It made her stick out like white against black. He already called her by her name once, but she wasn't quite as ready to fall back into his arms as she thought she was. She wasn't ready to answer questions that she didn't have the answer to and she wasn't ready for the unwanted scrutiny and attention it would bring her. For now, she only wanted to be with him.

"Lady…" Yamato waited for her to give her name, but stubborn as ever, she remained silent. "Sara—I hope you don't mind me calling you that, but you refuse to give your name, so I must give you one," he said with a wink.

Sora's heart thudded against her chest, knowing perfectly well that he was flirting with her. "It's okay."

"Good. Then Lady Sara, I would like to escort you inside." He offered his hand and waited for Sora to loop hers through it. She did so with little hesitation.

"I suppose it's harmless."

Harmless was most definitely not the adequate word to describe the deafening silence and shameless stares that greeted the couple. Sora shrunk behind and felt Yamato release her hand to place his on her lower back in a comforting gesture. Sora had no idea what Mimi meant when she told her that her previously short hair would draw attention. With a quick glance around the room, it was clear that most of the ladies had their hair bundled up while hers cascaded down her back. However, she _did_ know what Mimi had meant when she said everyone would notice the glass slippers. In the silence of the room, it had a most distinctive _clink_ that resembled a small bell when her heels met with the ballroom floor. Sora smiled; she liked the _clink_.

The majority of the ballroom had recovered from seeing Yamato enter with a woman by his side and were now in huddled groups, most likely criticizing anything they could about Sora's appearance.

The couple stopped in the middle of the ballroom and Sora realized Yamato meant to dance with her. She drew back and gave a weak laugh. "I'm afraid, your highness, that I'm not very good at dancing. I'll surely step on your feet."

"Oh, I doubt that. And why don't you call me Yamato?"

"I really shouldn't."

"I insist."  
"No."

"Yes."

"No."  
"Please?"

"…no."

He laughed, enjoying their playful banter without a doubt that the woman before him was his Sora. "If you refuse to call me by my name, then you must dance with me."

"I must?"

"You must."  
"There are so many others here; they're all much more talented than I."

"But none of these women are _you_, Lady _Sara_. If a woman were to step on my feet, I would be honored if it was you."

Sora narrowed her eyes, annoyed at how damn charming he was and even more annoyed with how much her body reacted to their close proximity. Her heart was racing and her hands were shaking uncharacteristically. Her mind blurred, her eyes glazed, and her knees felt weak. "All right, but when you suffer from the bruises, you will not blame them on me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

As Yamato had suspected, Sora was merely modest. The sensation of holding her close as they waltzed around the ballroom floor, oblivious to the seething girls who watched was euphoric. He glanced down and grinned at the healthy pink that stained Sora's cheeks as they swayed together. The strands of her hair felt cool and silky against his right hand positioned formally on her back and Yamato considered spreading his fingers to touch more of her hair—his dance instructor would be appalled.

Sora marveled at the way Yamato danced. His posture was needless to say, perfect, his spine in complete vertical alignment. It wasn't hard to dance with him, to know where he would step, turn where he would turn, whisk where he would whisk. She lifted her chin proudly; it was especially pleasing to feel his left hand clasped firmly around her right. She had been a bit hesitant to rest her other hand on his arm, but when she did, it was as if the fabric melted away beneath her touch and she blushed at the contact. She looked up and met his eyes.

"Sara, Sara, Sara," he cooed. "Did I mention you look _exactly_ like a woman I know?"

"Oh… really," she answered, unsure of where the conversation would lead.

"Oh yes," his voice was lower now, huskier, dangerously alluring. "The mask you have on is unlike the rest I've seen. It's very stunning."

Sora blinked. It was startling, the way he changed subjects. "Thank you." It was also highly flattering to hear him compliment the cursed mask she had slaved over.

"She has eyes, just like yours."

Sora remained quiet.

"Her hair was the same color too. It's beautiful—I think it is my favorite color now. It reminds me of…"

Her eyes met his with curiosity as to how he would describe her hair. The last time he complimented her eyes, he had said they were "nice." She was amused with just how poetic he could become.

"Rusted metal."

Sora's expression went blank and for a second, Yamato worried that he had offended her in his attempt to elicit a laugh, but the fear quickly subsided as the corner of her lips tugged into a slow smile and then bloomed into a wide grin before evolving into a laugh.

"I shall tell the world that your favorite color is that of rusted metal!"

Yamato laughed as they did a spin turn. "Your laugh is just like hers. Like the sound of…"

"Oh no, there is no need to try to flatter me with your broken poetry," she said playfully, but Yamato only gave her a sly look and continued.

"A nightingale's song."

She laughed again. "Now you're comparing me with birds!"

"No? I thought you would like it."

"Well…" Even behind a mask, Yamato found Sora's expression irresistible. "I do. I've never had anyone say my laugh sounded like a nightingale's song."

"Never? I'm shocked."

"I haven't had the chance to laugh with many men before!"

"Then I'm honored." Their playful banter stopped as the two glided around the ballroom floor, oblivious to the world beyond. "Her name is Sora," he said suddenly.

Sora's heart leapt into her throat as she glanced up to meet his cobalt eyes boring into her.

"She left me," he added.

Sora looked away and tried to concentrate on the repetitive one, two, three of the tempo. "I'm sure that's a misunderstanding. I don't think anyone would want to leave you."

"Then why did she go? Can you tell me?"

She dared not meet his eyes, knowing that if she did, she would see everything she didn't want to. She would see his hurt, his longing. "Perhaps, she lacked the self-confidence it takes to be with you. Perhaps, she was feeling inadequate in comparison to the many others." She met his eyes, much to her mind's dismay and stared into… love? Yamato's features were calm and handsome and though he might've hurt before, the only thing that was apparent in his eyes was love. Love for her. "Maybe… she was running away from what she felt for you," she breathed out.

"But did she know that I was falling in love with her?"

Sora felt like someone had just thrown a bucket of cold water on her and her chest heaved with the deep breaths she took. Yamato released her hand and left it hanging as he reached forward to run his long fingers through her hair. It was then that she noticed he had waltzed them right into the gardens in the back of the palace—the sly thing—and the cold she felt was the fresh air against her skin. "If she was afraid… then why did she come back?"

"Because she realized she could not run from it. And, it seemed that she underestimated just how much she loved you."

They were alone in the dark gardens of the palace and the conversation had gotten very intimate. This could end very well or very badly, Sora noted.

"I'd like to ask her something," he smirked, "that is, only if she were here."

She swallowed loudly. "What would you ask her?"

That enticing smirk again and Sora was suddenly very aware that they had moved away from the glow of the ballroom. "I would like to ask her…" he drawled out, advancing towards the woman before him until her back touched the palace wall. He smiled, this time it looked more honest, and leaned forward with his left hand on Sora's hip, his right hand on the wall. "I would like to ask her," he repeated, "if I could kiss her."

It was getting hard to breathe and apparently Fate had decided it would end very well. Her heart had tripled its pace and her skin tingled. A blush crept up slowly from her neck and she prayed that the darkness hid it from Yamato. "I… don't think she would mind." His right hand touched her cheek in a soft caress and slowly moved to slip a thumb under her mask. She placed a hand gently on his wrist. "No, don't."

"But I want to see your face, my love. You look so stunning tonight, don't deny me the pleasure of seeing your beautiful face."

Her lips tugged into a smile. "You still have that silver tongue."

"You said that the last time we kissed."

"That could hardly be thought of as a kiss. More like… a mere brush up."

"I'll be sure to remember that this time."

"Don't take off the mask."

He frowned. "Why not, love?"

"Would you go against your own word? You asked that we not remove our masks."

Yamato only laughed. "I asked that _they_ not remove their masks as a precaution if you did not come. If forced into a marriage, I would hope to choose the woman whose personality was the most bearable. But I am already in love with you, mask or not, it would not matter."

"Oh." Then she frowned. "You were going to replace me!"

He laughed again and ran his hand through her hair. "No, never replace you. Now, are you going to let me kiss you?"

"Are you going to remove my mask?"

"Are you deformed?"

"Prince!"

He gave her a mirthful look and chuckled. "No, I will not, if you do not wish me to."

"Oh. All right then, take it off."

"Is that an invitation? I _have_ noticed how dark it is and just how alone we are."

Sora blushed crimson as inappropriate thoughts flashed through her mind. "No, it is _not_ an invitation to anything besides removing my—"

His fingers slipped under her mask and traced behind to the silver ribbons that held it in place. Pulling the ribbons loose and exposing the upper half of Sora's face to the fresh air, it was then that she noticed something was amiss.

"Can you even _see_ my face?"

"I can always see your face."

"Then why remove my mask?"

"Because, my heart, I want to _feel_ your skin," he whispered suggestively, while slowly closing the gap between them. As if to prove his point, Yamato's right hand cupped her cheek fully and ran his fingers over the soft contours of her features. Sora seemed to have lost her ability to speak, which only brought a smirk to his lips as they touched hers. "I'll remember to kiss you properly this time."

**

* * *

AN:** Terrible place to end a chapter, isn't it? I was going to continue on, but I realized that firstly, the chapter was getting too long, second, what more could I say about the night? They kissed and went home, whoop! ;) and third, I had ideas about the next chapter connecting with this one. In fact, I was so excited about the next chapter, that I just started a new document and went on writing. 

I think, this one is by far, my favorite chapter. It was _so so so _much fun to write and I got carried away at some parts. I hope you guys enjoy it! (enjoyment equals reviews, yeeees.)

Which reminds me, I was blown away at the story stats. Haha, a huge number of people don't review! But that's to be expected and I have no right to complain at all. I'm very happy with the people who do review and I'm flattered that people would read this story in the first place. So thank you, for taking the time to read this story. (And props for even reading the notes at the bottom!)

Two more chapters to go! (I'm 90 sure, but then again, you never know.)


	12. Devious Cupid

**AN:** I'm _so_ ecstatic to hear that you guys like Mimi's character! Thank you! I also have to mention that I'm really happy to hear from the readers that don't usually reply after writing that little note (it's also nice to know that people read these notes). I really didn't write it with the intention of _making_ people review, it's just that I found it amusing, but I'm extremely happy that some of you guys did, thanks again!

**P1nk R41n:** It's always so great to hear from people who are just starting the fic! _The Wish_ huh? It sounds familiar. If I haven't read it, I'll be sure to give it a go. _Ella Enchanted_ was a great book and I didn't bother seeing the movie either, hehe. Judging from the commercials, I really didn't like the new spins they added to the already perfect story and I felt that Anne Hathaway was not the best choice for an Ella. Thanks for your review.

**Aino Yuy:** Your review really made me realize that I probably haven't been detailed enough when it comes to Janine—which I'm very happy that you could point out! I've always imagined Janine to be a few years younger than Sora. Thanks!

**JyouraKoumi:** Haha, I don't think I made this fic into a Michi. I had no intention of doing so and reading back, I don't think I've really implied it. If you could tell me what gave you the impression, that would be great!

**TheLadyKnight:** How was your vacation! I love your idea with the whole "Mimi forgot to mention the deadline" thing, but sadly, that is not the way things go. (Though I have to say, that would be a nice, clean, and overall just plain crafty way to end things.) Hm… now I'm going to have to go think about it… I caught myself up with those awesome high school fic of yours! (Greatest, ever!) It was kind of sad to see them end, but also kind of nice. Gotta love closure. Thanks a bunch for your review.

And a **thank you** to the people who don't usually review, but did so anyway.

I don't do this too often (only when I am moved—I happen to be an occasional sentimental,) but I'd like to dedicate this second-to-last chapter to **Chikin Wang** who has _always_ been there since… (omg!) the first chapter of _Ishida High_. Thanks for offering me constructive advice and support.

**Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.**

* * *

**Chapter twelve – Devious Cupid**

"Oh Janine, it was the most wonderful thing!"

"Tell me!"

Sora lay on her bed and sighed dramatically, remembering the events from the night before. After Yamato had kissed her _very_ properly, he retied her mask and handed her another invitation for the second night of the ball. It was on a silver piece of paper with the same cursive writing. "Show this to the guards tomorrow night and they'll bring you to the garden. Wait for me," he told her.

Janine crossed her arms and cleared her throat. "I'm still here, Sora."

"Sorry," she blushed and then relayed the story to Janine, who made occasional commentaries when appropriate. Sora had conveniently omitted some of the more intimate moments between the two.

"That sounds _so_ romantic."

"It was magic."

"That reminds me, you still haven't told me how you came in possession of this magnificent dress," she motioned down at the gown in her lap, "those slippers, and not to mention, what happened to your hair and leg."

So Sora told her. By the end of it all, Janine's mouth hung open much like Tai's did and it was clear that her eyes were straining as much as Sora's the night before. "I don't believe it," she gasped incredulously.

"Yes you do."

"Yes I do, only because I can see it and this would be much too cruel a joke. I hope you haven't been telling the story too often."

"Only you and Yamato when he asked."

"How did he react?"

"He kissed me and thanked God."

"How sweet!"

"What about Miyako? What did she say of the ball?"

Janine laughed gaily. "She wouldn't stop talking about it. Joe and I heard her—"

"Stop! _Joe_ and you?"

The brunette blushed visibly and bit her lip. "Well… he was visiting a patient nearby and Lady Inoue actually allowed him to come inside. She was probably in a good mood after hearing Miyako's stories."

"Was it not a little… _dark_?"

"It was this morning!"

Sora coughed out a laugh. "Oh, I see. Please then, continue."

"Well, Miyako was telling her stories to anyone who would listen. She kept talking about what a great impression she made on the prince, how he remembered her name, how she was _sure_ he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and how his eyes positively _lit_ up at her. Of course, Marianne and I say it's the mask that she wore that was probably half blinding the prince. I swear, when she walked around, I thought a glass had sprung legs."

Giggles filled the air as the two girls slandered Miyako good-naturedly behind her back. "Did she say anything more?"

"The cow wouldn't shut up at how 'beautiful and grand' the ballroom was. I don't think you've mentioned that."

The auburn haired woman blushed and twirled a strand around her index finger. "Well… I was a little preoccupied and really… thinking of how the ballroom looked wasn't—"

"Say no more, girl. If I had a guy that _fine_, _that_ close, I don't think I'd be looking at the decorations."

Sora's face lit up with a smile at the familiar soprano and turned to face her fairy "godsister" standing at the doorway wearing another dress that was undoubtedly _Vera Wang_. "Well Janine, even if you didn't believe me before, you'd have to believe me now."

**§**

"I want to know WHO SHE IS!" Catherine Grant stormed about her mansion halls, throwing a tantrum and yelling at anyone who was unfortunate enough to get in her way. She rounded a corner and found her father lounging comfortably on a large armchair.

"Papa! You _must_ help me!" Catherine whined.

Her father hardly acknowledged her presence. "Catherine dear, you are making too much noise."

"But Papa!"

Lord Grant, no matter how much he loved his daughter, was a proud and honorable man (though at times, that was questionable). True, he was threatening and rude, but he was one man who would not stoop to low levels to get what he wanted. Lord Grant was a man who believed in achievement through one's own strength.

He sighed. "Catherine, why don't you concentrate on stunning the prince tonight? You had a dress picked out, yes? It is time you prepared yourself for the ball."

Catherine fought against the retort that was ready to spring from her lips. Furious and upset she was, it did not cloud her senses and she knew it was time to stop. "…yes Papa," she answered reluctantly with an edge of bitterness and made her way upstairs to her ornate bedchambers. The gown had already been prepared and currently donned the mannequin before her bed. It was made with a low neckline and stylish puffed sleeves, accompanied by a thick strand of diamonds that had been set out for the occasion. Originally, she had planned to wear her hair in another bun, but the events from the night before made it clear to her that the prince preferred hair to be let down. So tonight, she would _only_ adorn her hair with a thin strand of diamonds and set out to dazzle the prince.

**§**

"Red?"

"No, her hair."

"Right, what about yellow?"

"Too close to last night's."

Janine placed a finger to her chin and glanced at Sora who was wondering why she didn't get a say in what color her dress would be. "Sea green, I think."

"Oh, that'll work!"

As expected, Mimi and Janine got along like old friends, especially after Mimi let it "accidentally" slip that Fate had plans for her and Joe—good plans.

"Don't I get a say in—" Sora started.

"No."

Ruby eyes narrowed. "Janine, don't you have to return to the mansion and help me sabotage Miyako's dress?" she joked.

"Don't worry dear, I'm not the fairy godsister for nothing! I'll have you back at the mansion in literally no time, so feel free to stay until it's dark."

"Where in the world is _my_ fairy godsister?" Janine wondered out loud.

"Oh, we only help the desperate."

"Excuse me!"

An hour later, the darkness claimed the sky and the girls had Sora perfumed and as stunning as ever. She smiled at her reflection in the glass and decided that being the butt of all their jokes had been worth it. Besides, she loved those two to death and a few dozen jokes never hurt her ego, much.

"Well?" Mimi motioned with her hands to elicit a reply from Sora. "What do you think?"

The dress was much different than the one worn the night before with its slimming sea green velvet, wide sleeves, and high waist that was accentuated with silver lace. Sora squirmed a little at first, unused to the tightening below her bosom and the looseness at her waist but she soon grew to love the fashion. "I think you've just proven again why they call you the 'fashion fairy.'"

"I helped too!" came Janine's input.

Sora laughed. "If you can call it that."

"Yes I can, and I will."

Mimi giggled beside her, picking at the soft velvet and flicking Sora's hair occasionally with her wand. "How should the hair go, Janine?"

"Something different than the night before."

"We kept it down last night," said Sora as she recalled the feel of having Yamato's fingers entwined in the strands.

"What about a loose knot?"

"I like this girl!"

The next time Sora glanced in the mirror, her auburn hair was fashioned into the suggested loose knot, anchored in place with a large emerald pin etched with floral designs. Some tendrils escaped the confines and reached down to frame her face. "What do you two think?" she asked the others.

"I think your mother would be proud," Janine said softly, knowing how much the words meant to her.

"Ditto—ah, same."

"Thank you, both of you."

"Let's not get emotional!" Mimi waved her wand wildly, making the other two women take a couple of precautionary steps back. "Sora dear, we need some accessories."

"Oh, I almost forgot." She moved to the old table and picked up the silver chain from where she left it last. "I promised him I'd wear it," she said, not needing to elaborate on just who "him" was.

"But Sora, the emeralds! I had it all planned out too!" The pink haired woman said with urgency. She clasped her hands together and a dreamy look entered her hazel-brown eyes. "It was going to be diamonds with emeralds and sapphires and—"

"Can't you just turn her necklace into one of those with a wave of that pointing stick of yours?" Catching the look in Sora's eyes, Janine quickly added, "Just for the night, of course," and earned a nod.

"Silly me, I forgot." Mimi waved her wand once and the necklace found its way around Sora's graceful neck, she waved her wand a second time and Sora felt the change of weight as diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires (oh my!) rested in its place. She looked closely at the largest emerald positioned at the center and realized that Mimi had thoughtfully engraved it with the heart symbol of her pendant. On her ears hung small emerald cuts lined with glittering diamonds. Her wrists were in the same fashion as her neck: large emeralds, small sapphires, and even smaller—but more plentiful, diamonds. "Now, there's a special rule for this one," said Mimi after she was done admiring her handiwork.

"Yes?"

"That necklace is only temporary, seeing as how I had to work with your original. Temporary magic does not last past midnight, why? Who knows, it's a stupid rule, but it doesn't. Actually, I think it's because temporary magic is just that—temporary. Since midnight is when the new day begins, midnight is also when the previous day ends. So girl, that means that at one minute before midnight, that necklace will turn back into its original form, all clear?"

She nodded, not worried about the necklace in the slightest. "But the dress… everything else stays?"

"Everything else is yours! Of course they'll stay."

"I don't think she's too concerned about it, Mimi." Janine spoke up and stretched her arms above her head. "I suppose it's time to help that cow fit into her dress." She stepped forward and gave her friend a tight hug. "Good luck, Sora, though I'm sure that you don't need it."

She smiled in return. "Thank you, Janine."

"You ready to go?" asked Mimi.

Janine squeezed her green eyes closed and stood before the shimmering woman, fighting the uneasy rattling of her nerves. "I'm ready."

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt that much," said Mimi cheerfully, just as she waved her wand and Janine disappeared before Sora's eyes.

"It doesn't really hurt, does it?"

"Of course not, and don't worry, Miyako won't be mad."

"Thank—"

"I told you, if you want to thank me, just keep telling me how much you love your dress."

"I love it I love it I love it I love it I love it I love it!"

"That'll do."

Sora glanced down when cool glass formed around her feet once more, realizing that Mimi had just helped her slip on her shoes. "I forgot to tell you, I realized what you meant with saying everyone would notice the slippers."

"It's a nice sound isn't it?" she paused and smiled, clearly knowing something Sora did not. "Your carriage is here."

"You can tell?"

"Of course! What kind of fairy would I be if I could just let things sneak up on me? We'd better hurry down, girl, I'll be here tomorrow night and then, at the wedding!"

They walked down the stairs chatting away about girlish dreams and ignoring Taichi, who was positioned by the door with a sleepy look in his eyes. "I'll expect you home by dawn," he yawned groggily.

"Oh, I won't be surprised if she didn't—"

"I'll be back, don't worry!" said Sora, clasping a hand over Mimi's mouth to keep her from finishing the rest. She gave Taichi a quick friendly kiss on the cheek before turning to Mimi and repeating the action. "Say bye to Kari for me."

"She's almost as excited as you are," he answered with a curt chuckle.

As Sora climbed onto the carriage (after making sure she had the invitation, of course), she heard Mimi's distinctive voice say, "About Takeru, Tai, you should really start getting used to having him around." She turned around as the coachman cracked his whip and laughed quietly seeing her childhood friend standing alone, rubbing the bridge of his nose and looking as if all hell was about to break loose.

**§**

The thumping of her heart echoed so loudly that Sora was positive the footman could hear it when he helped her off the ivory coach. She took in a deep breath, smiled to the footman, and stepped towards the same guards as the night before. The palace stood even more threateningly than the night before. Sora's heart leapt to her throat when she was close enough to see a familiar lavender haired girl walking into the palace.

The guards exchanged looks and waited patiently for her silver invitation. When Miyako turned, disco ball mask and all, Sora managed to suppress a gasp. A hand flew to her mask, checking self-consciously to see if it was still intact. The dark and glimmering color complimented her dress better than it had the night before and Sora cracked a smile at the guard who took her invitation, feeling a little more confident than she did a few minutes ago.

She didn't know why the nervousness was suddenly so overwhelming, even more than the night before. But last night, she had come in hopes of seeing Yamato; tonight she came with the knowledge that he held her heart firmly, as did she, his. What if something happened tonight? What if she embarrassed herself? What is she embarrassed him? What if he realized that he had made the wrong decision? What if he didn't want her?

"Uh… miss?"

A deep voice snapped her out of her brooding, and Sora smiled at the guard who stood before her, obviously waiting for her to follow. So much for embarrassing herself.

He laughed at the string of apologies she offered and bowed. "It's not a problem, if you will, please follow me," he said with such light-heartedness that at the back of her mind, Sora found herself thinking if all the guards were so friendly, she wouldn't have a problem living at the palace.

She fell into step behind him as the guard, a tall man with soft dark brown eyes, led her around the palace, through another gate, pass a few tasteful archways, and maneuvered expertly through a small maze of tall green hedges before finally coming to a familiar pond surrounded by looming willow trees on the far side. To Sora's right stood a proud sculpture of something with wings she couldn't quite make out. It occurred to her that on the opposite bank, Yamato and her had once enjoyed each other's company on a stone bench. The side she currently occupied had been covered in shadows the last time.

The guard bowed again, "His royal highness asks that you wait for him here. I will inform him that you have arrived." With that, he left her in the shadows.

Sora hugged herself as shivers ran up and down her skin. She sat down on a stone bench by the base of the sculpture and gazed across the pond. It was odd to see the same spot Yamato and her had relaxed comfortably at from a different view. She smiled and closed her eyes, imagining the two of them across the pond in the bright daylight, playfully flirting with each other. She could smell the same honeyed aroma from across the glossy water.

Soft arms circled around Sora's shoulders, pulling her into a warm embrace as something sweet and velvety rubbed against her nose. She smiled with her eyes still closed and gently touched the hand holding the flower.

"It's red this time," he whispered against her ear.

Sora's skin tingled on hearing Yamato's baritone voice and she peeked an eye open at the dark colored rose that lingered before her, remembering he had given her a white one when they sat on the opposite end of the pond. She took the stem into her fingers. "What, only one?" she joked as she twirled the flower in the air and leaned in closer to Yamato.

His body shook with laughter. "The whole garden is yours when you become my queen." He held her closer, expecting her body to tense at the mention of becoming his queen and was immensely pleased when she only warmed to his touch.

"So… you're not about to marry Catherine Grant?" she asked tentatively. Even though it was without a doubt that Yamato had no intentions of doing so, she wanted to hear the words from him.

"Lady, if I am, would I have just spent an hour telling my mother how much I've fallen in love with you?"

"Perhaps…"

He laughed again and leaned closer, burying his head against the crook of her neck. "Never." His warm breath tickled and brought out giggles from Sora, which abruptly changed into shallow breaths as Yamato ran his lips butterfly-light along her velvety skin. "Did I tell you what a vision you are tonight?"

She let out a breathy laugh, relishing in the sensation of having him so close. "My prince, I doubt you can even see me in the darkness."

"I told you, I can _always_ see you. And you are more beautiful by the days."

"Silver ton—" Sora's words were cut off as Yamato placed his lips gently over hers. One of his hands moved from her shoulder to trail across her side and rest just above her hip. He turned her slowly to face him and she obliged more than willingly.

The rose slipped from Sora's fingers as her hands moved of their own accord to entangle in his thick golden hair. When she did so, she heard Yamato inhale sharply and press against her with more urgency.

The kiss may have started with enough innocence, but just as the night before, it grew more passionate, hurried, and wanting with each passing moment. Sora felt him run daringly across her lips as they parted for a brief moment for breath and gladly offered an invitation. His tongue teasingly grazed across her teeth before reaching further in. Who would have guessed the prince—inexperienced as he claimed to be, could be such a damn good kisser? Her left arm had subtly moved again to lock itself around his neck as the other lingered in his famed mass of hair.

Yamato's arm that had been gently applying pressure on her hip was wrapped around her waist, pushing her into his chest as his other hand reached up to release her auburn locks before moving down to trace her neckline and finally rest against her neck with his thumb running across her jaw line.

Sora's senses were clouded over with only thoughts of his touch, his familiar sandalwood scent, his lips, and the discreet little noises he made deep in his throat. In the back of her mind, a danger sign had been hung but she paid it little notice. Finally, they pulled away and Yamato let out a hearty laugh. He placed a kiss tenderly on her cheek and brought his hands down along her arms, slipping under her wide sleeves and lightly touching the delicate skin on her forearms.

The redness of his ears made Sora smile coyly and she found she could only love him more. Their eyes locked and in the dark, she could still make out the deep blue that possessed anything that dared to capture his stare for too long. "You pulled off my pin. Mimi is going to be mad."

"Don't wear your hair up, I want to be able to touch it." A moment's silence passed and Yamato called out for a guard. The same man who had led Sora to the garden returned, this time holding two oil lamps. He bowed and placed one by the foot of the bench before retreating to his post in the distance—or at least Sora hoped it was in the distance. She didn't want any witnesses to their "friendliness."

"Don't move," came his command and even her blood ceased flowing. Yamato leaned forward and fingered the elaborate necklace around her neck.

"I wore it, like I promised I would," said Sora, suddenly a little tentative of how Yamato would react.

He only smiled. "Mimi?"

"Mimi. It'll change back at a minute before midnight. Think of it as a magical clock that only tells the time once."

"I do think I'm completely under your charm already, Lady. Do you think any more magic is needed?"

Sora laughed. "It wasn't—"

"I love you."

She blinked, her dark eyes flaring a hint of gold with the lantern casting a muted glow. It was a startling confession, but not surprising in the least. Sora's heart burst with eagerness to reciprocate. "Yamato, I lov—"

"No!" He reached over to place a hand over her lips and received a bewildered glare. Yamato chuckled. "I want you to surprise me." She still looked confused, but the glare was gone when he removed his hand.

"Surprise you?"

"Yes! I don't want you to reply to me with a, 'I love you too' I want… I want you to say it when I don't expect you to."

"You're lucky you're the prince. I wouldn't plot out my 'I love you's' for just anyone, you understand."

He laughed and ran his fingers through her hair once again. "Lady Takenouchi, I did not think that your love could be bought."

"It depends on the buyer."

"Oh?" he raised a brow. "And how many buyers are there?"

"Hundreds, _thousands_!" Sora teased, leaning closer to her prince.

"And, how many are you willing to sell to?"

"Just one."

"Who, may I ask, is that devastatingly lucky man?"

Smiling impishly, Sora decided to keep the game going just a little longer until she got the kiss that was lurking close by. Her gaze shifted to his lips. "He happens to be the richest of them all—"

He leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips.

"—and he can kiss like no other."

"What more?" Yamato pressed.

"I suppose he _does_ make me weak in the knees."

"You? No."

"Perhaps he even has the ability to make me swoon."

"Unheard of."

"I can't stop thinking about him, and…"

"And?"

Sora pulled away and crossed her arms. "I'd say that I love him, but he has asked for me to surprise him!"

"How inconsiderate!"

She sighed wistfully. "But he's lucky that I love him so. I will just have to conjure up my wittiness and think of ways to charm _him_ instead."

"He will love you even more for it."

"It would only be right."

Yamato threw back his head and laughed loudly before standing and taking Sora's hands. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

"If you insist." She stood after him and watched as he picked up the lantern and lifted it above their heads. "I thought we were going somewhere."

"Look first."

Sora raised her head and peered up at the previously shadowed sculpture. Upon closer inspection it occurred to her that it was a very young man with wings, holding a bow and arrow with a long quiver stuffed with additional ornate arrows of the same kind.

"It's Cupid," Yamato whispered.

"Cupid," she echoed.

"A small man that runs around and fires arrows that make innocents fall in love."

"He sounds devious."

"Well, my mother—being the romantic that she is—put the statue here. Look, it's lantern holder." He demonstrated by hooking the lantern to the end of Cupid's bow.

"I suppose it's useful…"

Yamato laughed. "Not one of my mother's better ideas, but I wanted to show you nonetheless. I'm going to keep a lantern here from now on, always lit, to remind you that I love you."

A smile lit Sora's eyes and suddenly, even the odd sculpture looked beautiful. She'd have to ask Mimi if she had heard of this Cupid. "I'd much rather you tell me yourself that you love me. Everyday."

"Making demands of your own now, I see." Yamato's eyes shone mischievously as he pulled her closer to lean down and whisper, "I can _show_ you everyday too."

The blood rushed to Sora's cheeks and she looked down to hide her growing grin. "Where did you want to adventure to?"

"Remember I once told you that there's a passageway here that leads out of the palace gates?"

"Yes?"

He smirked with boyish glee. "Wouldn't you like to go search for it?"

Surprisingly, Sora's excitement matched his own with the thoughts of hidden passageways and she nodded eagerly.

They left the lantern hanging from the end of Cupid's bow where it could give off a decent amount of lighting. Sora ran her fingers across the growing ivy on the walls surrounding the small oasis. "Yama, is there any poison ivy in the garden?" She asked hesitantly, drawing her hand away from the glossy leaves.

"Not that I know of."

"Oh, good." They glanced over the ivy in silence. "Where do we start?"

"Stay here, I'll go to the other side and if either of us should find anything, call."

"Yes, your highness," Sora teased.

After Yamato left and she was left on her own to inspect the crawling ivy, a thought hit Sora like a tidal wave. While searching for secret passageways, she finally realized what Janine had meant when she said, "You've really learned how to _live_, Sora." Living wasn't merely just breathing, eating, and sleeping, but rather, feeling. It had been more than a decade since Sora felt so _alive_. With Yamato, every moment was an exhilarating adventure; every breath was a gift.

During the years spent serving the Inoues, she had forgotten how it felt to feel pure bliss, love, even sadness and pain. Being whipped was hardly anything to compare with how much it would hurt if Yamato were to be taken away from her. Janine, Marianne, and Sam's love was so unlike his unrelenting onslaught of affection. He made her breath hitch, her heart speed, and her mouth sore from the smile that wouldn't leave her lips and over activities.

"Did you find anything, my heart?" Yamato's voice came from the other side of the Cupid creation.

His voice, instead of drawing Sora out of her daydreams, only made her blush further with memories of how his lips had felt against her own. "N-not yet, Yama."

"Pity, I was hoping that it would be dark in there. We could—"

"I should hardly like to have my virginity taken away from me in an abandoned passageway," said Sora, giving up and walking towards where the blonde leaned casually against the statue.

He cast her a feral grin. "Let's not be bashful, Sora love."

"The only way I'd let you do something like that is with marriage—"

"That's perfect! You know I have every intention of doing so." A frown suddenly marred his features.

"What is it?"

"Take off your mask."

"Again? But wouldn't it be unfair to the other women?"

"What other women? There is only you. Come, I want to kiss you."

"You've kissed me just _fine_ with the mask on."

"I was too overcome with my desire for you."

"What, now you are not?"

"Now it is even stronger than before."

"But—"

"There is a lantern now, I want to gaze upon your loveliness."

"Will you always charm me like this in the future?" Sora asked, but even as she said so, her hands reached to the back of her mask to pull at the silver ribbons. A moment later, Yamato's hands smoothed over the skin beneath her eyes and his lips touched hers with surprising innocence.

"I don't think I can stop myself from charming you for as long as I live," he wooed against her lips after they parted.

"We never found the passageway."

"We have all the time in the future."

"What were we looking for exactly?"

He laughed and shrugged, "Mother said it was something of stone…" They exchanged glances at his words and Yamato slowly pushed off from the Cupid statue to stand up. Without a word, he lifted the lantern from its resting area and walked around the base, inspecting everything he could with his free hand.

Sora stared up at the statue and noticed an arrow that seemed to come loose from the others in the quiver. She climbed onto the stone platform to level with the quiver and timidly shook the arrow. It came loose and she pulled it further out of the quiver as far as it would go. A low humming sound came from beneath the statue and in another instant the entire base had spun away to reveal stone stairs leading down to nowhere.

"Holy—"

"You searched a decade for _this_?" Sora laughed and she took Yamato's hand, jumping down on her glass slippers to peer into the abyss. She pulled away. "Do you want to go down?"

He stepped forward and flashed her another smirk. "Scared, milady?"

_As a matter of fact, yes_. "No."

"Then what are we waiting for? Your prince will be here to protect you should anything happen."

Trusting him, she followed closely down the stairs and barely noticed the change of weight around her neck as her necklace turned back into the silver crest of love her mother had left behind. Feeling a little less brave than usual, Sora took Yamato's hand tightly in hers.

The lantern cast a gloomy glow against the stone walls of the passageway, but the tunnel was surprisingly… uninhibited. Despite the old, mucky scent, there were shockingly few creepy crawlers scurrying along the path. Yamato swatted at an offending cobweb with the lantern and gave Sora's hands a reassuring squeeze before continuing.

"Yamato?"

"Yes?"

"Can I tell you I love you now?"

His laugh seemed to brighten the dim passageway. "Not now, love, there's not enough room to kiss you." Yamato slowed his pace as they came to another set of stairs that apparently marked the end of the tunnel—a dead end.

"This is a cruel joke," Sora said, her fears long forgotten.

A small stone piece caught Yamato's eyes. "No look," he motioned to the stone candleholder on the wall with a few cobwebs hanging from the base.

"I hope this one is easier fathom."

The only reply was a slow shifting of stone as Sora and Yamato were pushed out into fresh air. They turned and realized that a piece of the wall had spun in a complete circle, bringing whoever was in, out, and vice versa. The couple stood at the back of the palace by the brick wall that ran the perimeter.

"This could be dangerous," Sora noted. "You won't know who can get in."

"Can _we_ get in?"

She shrugged and began pressing the bricks. A short while later, the two found themselves back in the dark tunnel.

Yamato cleared his throat. "That was… interesting."

"Oh wait!" Sora exclaimed and reached over to twist the stone candelabra.

"Yes, love?" Yamato asked when they stood outside the walls once more.

A glint flashed in Sora's dark ruby eyes and she grinned. "Yamato Ishida, I love you."

He rushed forward and pressed his lips against hers with unleashed passion. Sora felt her senses blur all over again as she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the short strands against his nape.

"Are you surprised?" she asked after they parted and she retied her mask, feeling a little self-conscious outside the palace.

Yamato gave her a sly look. "Not in the slightest bit."

"I'll take it back then."

"Don't do that, you'll have the rest of our lives to surprise me."

They slowly made the way back to the garden where Yamato finally realized that the necklace had returned to its original form. He handed her another invitation after he brought Sora to the palace gates. This time, the fancy piece of paper was decorated with glimmering gold. "Tomorrow, I ask you formally to marry me at the stroke of midnight," he whispered against her ear. "My mother asked for you to wear white. She says she wants to see how you'd look as my bride."

Sora's skin darkened considerably to rival her hair and she lowered her head, suddenly shy. She murmured once more of her affections upon climbing into the cozy carriage and left Yamato to watch with a love struck look written clearly across his handsome features as Sora's ivory coach disappeared from view. A moment later, a striking pink coach followed.

**§**

Miyako seethed in the back of her carriage, watching the prince affectionately touch and whisper to the woman with auburn hair. On the first night, it had dimly struck Miyako that the lustrous color was familiar, but it couldn't have been the same. She had crudely cut Sora's hair the night she no doubt permanently wounded her leg. Then why was it, that a voice kept screaming that it _was_ Sora? Could it be?

She just spent the night with Catherine Grant by her side, waiting for the prince to arrive. Instead, he only appeared for a brief moment and the rest remained a mystery until _she_ showed up. The woman in shimmering sea green velvet climbed into the ivory carriage. There was no way Sora could afford such luxuries, but suddenly, it didn't matter who this woman was. As the carriage started, Miyako yelled a command to her coachman to follow.

* * *

**AN: **We're at the end! I haven't started chapter 13 yet (oh my, 13 chapters, creepy, yes?) and though I have most of it planned out, bits of it keep altering. I have absolutely no idea how long it will be, but I _can_ say that I will have it up before the end of August.

How about a review to share your thoughts?


	13. Tangible Remnants of Hopes and Dreams

This last chapter is dedicated to **TheLadyKnight** because if it weren't for her exceptional deal making abilities, this chapter wouldn't have been posted in time.

**Pyrodragon: **Thank you! I'd have to say… my favorite would be… hm… well… I don't think I've written enough to declare one my favorite just yet, but I think the most "developed" one would be _Seven Days_.

**Chikin Wang: **No, Sora is not going to end up locked in a tower and wait for talking mice to save her… but it sounds so tempting, hahaha.

**Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.**

**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen – Tangible Remnants of Hopes and Dreams **

Miyako wasn't given enough credit on stealth. She ordered the coachman to slow to a mild canter and stay a good distance away from the ivory carriage in front. The man barely even gave her a glance before tightening his pull on the reigns all the while keeping an eye on the dim white dot.

"Miss, they've stopped," the man's gruff voice came from the front.

Miyako pushed aside the lacy curtains and realized with a shock that they had stopped in the village. Surely a village girl could not afford the luxuries that the auburn haired woman flaunted. Creeping cautiously out of the carriage and ignoring the quizzical stare the footman gave, she checked to make sure her mask was intact and continued towards the woman in sea green velvet, unsure of what she intended to do. The modest carriage had stopped in front of the dark butcher's shop.

Shadows veiled the small surrounding buildings and Miyako easily slipped into the dark corners, pulling her skirts close with a hand over her heart as she held her breath and waited for the carriage to pull away. When it finally did, she frowned as the woman's profile was barely visible in the darkness and her mask remained tightly bound to her features. Miyako was just making wild stories in her mind of the woman's deformity until a low glimmer caught her eyes. Even in the dark, from a distance, it was still hard to not recognize the very silver chain that a servant had threatened her life over once.

**§**

With a hand on her mother's necklace, Sora watched as the carriage dissolved into the darkness in the horizon. All of a sudden, her nerves began rattling and a frosty wave stole over her skin. Having learned to never disagree with her instincts, Sora swiveled on her glass heels to stare straight out into the dark. The surrounding black felt thick and practically radiated with an ominous aura. She suppressed a shiver and instead, continued staring into the darkness as if doing so could grant her the ability to see through.

The village was silent, the barest movement of skirts sounded like thunder in the still quiet, the shutting of a door, an earthquake. Sora's heart constricted to a stop as a flicker finally caught her eyes, but quickly continued its rhythmic pounding when she concluded it to be light reflected off of a glass. Perhaps her nerves were playing a joke on her, perhaps she was just filled with too much unsettled energy from the excitement of being with Yamato, but after a while, Sora finally pushed away her worries and entered the shop.

**§**

The sun's rays stretched lazily over the kingdom when dawn finally arrived. The sky was a pallet of blues, pinks, and yellows, but its beauty was lost to the woman before the vanity mirror. A bright reflective mask lay on the vanity surface by her fists, knuckles white from her trembling anger. It had taken a couple of hours for the shock to subside enough to turn into fury and even longer for her mind to think logically.

She had not seen the woman's face. The necklace could have been any other, though she doubted that theory. It was nearly impossible to forget the chain that she had taken from her stepsister. For the first time, Miyako saw Sora for what she really was, her stepsister and formidable opponent. Sora had just started chores for Miyako and her mother then and curious of what could be done to provoke the girl, Miyako had stolen into her bedroom and taken the most valuable thing she could find. It was the first time she had seen her mad—no, beyond mad, furious. That night, Sora was whipped for the first time and the day after she began her life as a servant to the Inoues.

Years ago, when Miyako had first met Sora, she had seen her as a gullible, cheerful girl and settled to make her life miserable. Sora was everything she wasn't, and everything she wanted to be. She was beautiful, even at such a young age she glowed with radiance. She had friends, people that praised her, she was loved and worshiped. So, Miyako had set out to keep the one person she envied most, the one person who could take everything away from her trapped under her thumb as a servant. She learned that fate could not be thwarted.

Before her very eyes, Miyako saw it all repeating, but this time, she feared Sora could not be discouraged so easily. She took in a long shaky breath and loosened her fists, coming to her senses and the present. She would marry the prince and damn it, she was going to live "happily ever after."

The knock at the door echoed through the bedchamber and Miyako watched a brunette with large emerald eyes enter the room upon giving her consent. "Janine."

The girl paused in the middle of the room, holding a small tray of breakfast in one hand and a washbasin balanced on her hip with the other. "Miss Miyako…"

"Tell me, when was the last you've been to the markets?"

The blood drained from Janine's face, but she held her head high and answered in an unwavering voice, "Just a few days ago, Miss."

"I see."

"Is… something wrong, Miss?"

There was a long moment where neither of them moved. Janine held Miyako's stare, willing herself not to run.

"…no. Nothing is wrong."

**§**

Mimi came earlier than usual. The woman showed up in a lavish gown crawling with red embroideries that she explained to be _Christian Dior_. She seemed to be more excited than usual, if possible. Sora sat in bed, absentmindedly watching Mimi hustle about the room and trying to shake an unsettling feeling.

She stopped her pacing and turned with a hand on her hip to the young woman in bed. "Sora sweetie? Are you feeling okay?"

She blinked. "Oh, I'm fine."

Mimi gave a small nod and a smile that didn't quite reach her sparkling hazel eyes. "Don't worry." The words spoke volumes beyond Sora's comprehension. She straightened up and waved her wand at Sora, magically lifting the woman to her feet. "I heard it's white tonight?"

Her crimson eyes lit up at the memory of the previous night spent with Yamato. "You know?"

"Of course I know," said Mimi with a wink. "Girl, let me tell you, if that guy was in the twenty-first century, girls would be all over—oh, well I guess that's happening now, isn't it?" Mimi giggled lightly wrapped in her own musings while circling around Sora with her wand poised against her chin. She waved the white rod and exclaimed, "I've got it!" just before cool fabric brushed against Sora's skin.

She glanced in the three-panel mirror Mimi had materialized once again in the center of the room. "Heavens, is that really me?" said Sora, reaching out a hand to tentatively touch the cold glass.

"You like it?"

She swallowed hard. "I love it." For the occasion, Mimi had outfitted Sora in snow white satin. The glossy fabric wrapped around her arms tightly and constricted about her slim waist only to blossom into a breathtakingly wide skirt. Delicate silk embroidered meticulously with a shiny bead floral pattern was layered lightly over the skirts. Around her neck, the crest of love had been turned into a modest necklace consisted of Baroque pearls, the same as the bracelet her wrist donned. Sora's earrings were simple, made of single spherical pearls. To top it off, Mimi had decorated her auburn hair with a crown of baby's breath flowers.

"I think the flowers are a nice touch, don't you think so?"

"Y-yes," stuttered Sora still in shock.

The other woman clasped her hands together, heedless of the sharp wand and sighed dreamily. "You're going to make _such_ a gorgeous bride. Donald Trump and Melania got nothin' on you and Yamato."

Sora smiled. She was already used to Mimi's occasional comparisons to the twenty-first century and learned to simply nod and smile.

"Remember, Sora. The necklace will change at a minute before midnight again. Remember."

"I will, Mimi. I hardly noticed it change last night, we were so caught up with discovering the passageway."

Mimi smiled knowingly.

"That reminds me. Have you heard of Cupid?" asked Sora, slipping into her glass slippers.

"Cupid! Girl, I dated him."

Sora's eyes widened as she stared at her friend incredulously. Why anyone would want to be with an overgrown baby with wings was beyond her.

It was as if Mimi could read her mind for in the next instant, she clicked her tongue and giggled. "He's not really like that, you know."

"Oh… really?"

"He'll kill me for telling you, but Cupid was a late bloomer. He used to wet the bed during his 'active' years. He'd run around and play with arrows and people's hearts, terrible."

"But he courted you!"

"Oh, people grow up, and so do we. Cupid grew out of his childish games, but not before doing enough damage that people would start relating him to _all_ their love issues. He's quite the looker now. Blonde, blue eyes, tall, handsome, much like Yamato."

The idea of another man looking even remotely close to Yamato's perfect features was unheard of to Sora, but she nodded and listened nonetheless. "So… the arrow—"

"What can I say, he has a knack, playing with hearts."

"I was right, he is devious."

Mimi gave a sly smile. "Oh yes." Suddenly she stilled and gave Sora a regretful smile. "I have to go now."

"Oh do you really?"

"Yeah, but don't worry girl, you look gorgeous. The necklace will change at a minute before midnight and… good luck."

"Mimi—" A thunderous pounding from below startled Sora. She snapped her head to the doorway and when she turned around once more, her fairy godsister had disappeared. "Tai?" Sora called.

His voice wafted up from the first floor. "Sor, I think you should come down." The serious tone he used only added to her worries and Sora found herself picking up her skirts and racing down the steps.

"What is it—Marianne? Janine?" She stared at the aging woman by the door and almost broke out in a smile if it wasn't for the way Janine leaned against her for support. "What, what's happened?" asked Sora as she raced towards them, accidentally pushing Tai aside in her urgency.

Janine staggered forward and fell onto Sora's outstretched arms and into the dim candlelight. Sora's knees buckled under the unexpected weight and they tumbled onto the floor, with Janine resting on her lap. She gasped at the blood that glistened wickedly in the glow. "Marianne, what happened?" Janine's arms and face was covered in bloody cavities and appendages.

Marianne dropped onto her knees by Sora and held back her tears as Taichi stared. "Mi-Miyako, she found out who you were and," she hiccupped and sniffed, "and she accused Janine of stealing. She didn't believe that you could afford everything and sh-she knew how close you—"

"Where is she?" Sora had heard enough. Her heart constricted painfully knowing she had been the main cause for so much turmoil.

"I-I don't know, she's probably almost ready for the ball. She told us to leave—oh God, Sora, she went mad! She took the fireplace pick and started _burning_ Janine! Th-this was after she whipped her an-and when she took the scissors, I was finally able to rush in and stop her."

"Damned bitch."

A strained laugh came from the figure on the floor. "Sora, I never thought you even knew such words."

She smiled down at her friend, unshed tears brimming in her eyes. "I've never been mad enough to use them."

"I take it you know what living means now?"

"Absolutely." She looked away, hiding the tears that broke free and turned to Taichi who stood quietly in the corner of the room in shock. "Tai, could you find Joe? Now please."

He sent her a look that warned her not to do anything stupid and she had to look away. "Sora, I'm not leaving the two of you."

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, Tai. Just please, Joe may be the only one who can do something about this."

After a long moment, he nodded and headed out the door.

"Marianne, where's Sam?"

"He's at the mansion. I told him not to get involved, goodness knows he's not the young man he used to be."

Sora gently pulled Janine to a sitting position and wrapped a poorly bandaged arm around her neck. "Let's get upstairs, Janine. You can rest there."

She moaned lightly and shuffled her feet idly. Marianne went to the opposite side and took the other arm. Together, they made it up the stairs to Sora's bedroom and slowly set Janine down on bed. There was more light in Sora's room and it revealed Janine's scabs, scars, cuts, and burns.

"Oh Janine… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Sora reached out a hand to touch Janine's blood dampened brown locks as Marianne rushed outside to fetch a pail of water.

"Stupid girl. It's not your fault."

"Yes—"

"Stop it Sora. Stop taking responsibility for what I do. I chose this."

"No you didn't."

"Yes. I did and I did it all so that you could go marry that prince charming. Just remember to take Marianne, Sam, and me with you."

Sora looked down at her blood stained dress. The dress didn't matter anymore. She felt selfish. She sacrificed her closest friends' safety for her own desire. If she had gone back to the mansion none of this would have happened. But, even as Sora tried to convince herself it wasn't worth it, her heart knew it was. It only made her more determined to go. She stared down at her hands, trying to make her decision for what seemed like an eternity until a larger hand was placed over hers. She looked up and found Joe smiling down at her.

"Don't worry," he said.

Sora lowered her lashes as the familiar words echoed in her head. Mimi knew—knew what was going to happen, what was happening. The knowledge gave a little reassurance and oddly, no anger. She knew, warning Sora of the future would be disastrous. Besides, Mimi wouldn't let anything bad happen, would she? Sora inhaled deeply and looked up with a question in her eyes.

"Janine will be fine. No scars."

"N-not even from the whipping?"

"Not with me here."

Sora glanced around the room from Joe's smiling features, to Janine's tired but happy smirk, to Marianne's twinkle in her eyes, and finally to Taichi's reassuring grin at the doorway where he stood.

"Sora, if you don't go, you're telling me that all this was in vain," whispered Janine, knowing just how to persuade her. Her voice was hoarse, but somehow still possessed the kindness and warmth.

Silence passed through the room with the occupants smiling confidently and Sora seemingly struggling in her own battles. Truthfully, her heart had long ago won. She stood, ram rod straight and her lips curved. "My dress is dirty."

A pillow flew at Sora and hit her squarely in the chest with a soft _oof_.

"Okay, I'm going, I'm going. Obviously you're fine if you can throw a pillow."

**§**

She still worried. Sora sat in the back of the coach, rocking gently from side to side, lost in her thoughts and concerns. For the second time she could remember, Sora felt her anger consume her and boil close to the surface, threatening to be unleashed. She had learned to leash her temper, but it always came back when the things and people she cared for were in jeopardy.

Sora stared down at the invitation in her lap and lifted a hand to her mask. She had almost forgotten them until Taichi ran down after her with the items in hand. A promise had been made to Janine that she would attend the ball and marry the prince. It wasn't so selfish, in a way, she did it so Janine didn't suffer in vain. Right, she just had to keep reminding herself that.

The dress was still soiled, but it was no longer important. Sora didn't care who stared at her or anything else the whores had to say, she was going for Yamato, for a chance at a happiness long postponed.

"Miss?"

Sora blinked rapidly and jerked her head towards her right. The footman looked at her quizzically by the open door with a hand outstretched, ready to help her out. She lowered her lashes. "I'm sorry."

Her heart was thundering as she stepped out of the carriage, but before Sora could even try to calm herself, a hand reached out and struck firmly across her cheek. She whirled around, hand pressed firmly against her cheek and stilled. Sora froze at the sight of Miyako and a million thoughts sped through her mind in a silent hurricane. Her face was blank as she tried to search for the right emotion. Anger? Pain? Shock?

Miyako didn't seem to be having trouble with finding the right emotion and raised her hands to grip firmly around Sora's throat, pushing the woman back until her head collided with the side of the coach. Sora flinched momentarily, but in the next instant, her features contorted into one Miyako hadn't seen before. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened. Miyako applied more pressure to Sora's neck; for some damn reason, it didn't affect her.

Sora's hands closed around Miyako's wrists in deadlocks. She promised Janine she wouldn't do anything rash, stupid, something that could jeopardize the future, but the truth was, Sora was tired of playing the submissive servant. It wasn't until Miyako let go completely that she realized how much pressure she was placing on the woman's wrists. Sora blinked, straightened, and pushed aside the offending limbs, disgust written all over her physiognomy. Miyako rubbed her wrists and she glared up at her accusingly. Even in the dark, Sora could make out the imprints her fingers had left, a few half moon curves remained from where her nails had dug into her flesh. She almost smiled.

Words had fled from her mind and Sora's mind had stopped functioning correctly. It was as if another person had taken over her since the moment Janine had shown up at the door, covered in scars and blood. Deciding that words weren't necessary, Sora bent down to pick up the invitation from where it had fallen.

A foot stamped down on her fingers, viciously grinding her hand against the ground. Miyako's heel found its way onto Sora's flesh and she relentlessly crushed it further in as she bent to slowly pick up the piece of paper, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. Sora watched as she snatched the invitation, held it firmly between her fingers, and promptly tore it apart into halves, fourths, eighths, tinier and tinier until the pieces were as big as her thumb nail. Fiery orbs followed the pieces to the ground in slow motion, watching as her hopes and dreams were literally torn before her very eyes. The pain from her hand was minute compared to the one resonating from her heart.

She was suddenly desperate. Sora's eyes jumped around their surroundings and her features darkened. They were a little way from the palace, but not at its gate. The streets were dark, quiet, abandoned at the late hour.

"Don't bother, you're not going to get any help," sneered Miyako as she bent forward to roughly rip off Sora's mask. "I paid the footman and coachman to bring you here. They're not going to help you."

Her eyes darted to the front of the carriage and took in the empty seat. The footman was nowhere to be seen, when had they slipped away? As Sora slowly came to terms with the situation, foot still trapped until Miyako's heel, the spiteful woman pulled and ripped at the mask.

The ribbons came off first, then the beads, the glitter, the fabrics, and finally, she pulled the final piece apart right down the middle. Shock was the first to hit. Shock that hours, days, weeks of hard work had been ruined in a mere minute, and shock that Miyako was strong enough to rip the mask in half. The lavender-haired woman gave an unladylike snort and threw the remaining pieces at Sora's face. One piece hit her in the eye and the sting brought her senses back.

Sora's eyes watered and Miyako laughed. It was loud, piercing, and shrill. Unwelcome in the dead of the night. "What's this, are you actually crying?"

She glanced up from where she knelt, their eyes locking. Sora's vision blurred and her eyes brimmed with tears, but none fell. She wasn't feeling sad, helpless, hopeless, and pathetic, but instead, anger raged within. A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Miyako, you are by far, the most pathetic person I have ever met."

Miyako shrieked and her cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment. She opened her mouth to retort, but Sora had taken the chance to lung forward, knocking the woman onto her back. In a most out-of-character rage, she knelt forward and clasped her left hand loosely around Miyako's neck as the other struck her in the face, again and again, and again.

"This is for Janine." She clenched her fingers in a fist and struck, surprisingly well for a hand so abused and beaten. "This is for my mother's necklace." She left hand tightened its hold and Sora violently took in a handful of Miyako's hair, lifted her head, and shoved it forcefully back into the ground. Miyako was screaming now, realizing that the same advantage of the dark she had given herself, was working equally well with Sora.

Sora wasn't done. Over a decade of anger had been locked inside and suppressed and now, she was finally revealing it all in a flurry. "Allow me to be selfish, _Miss Inoue_, but for some reason, I feel that you owe the biggest debt to me." Sora stilled and bowed her head, the auburn locks fell forward and framed her face. Finally, the unshed tears fell. She took in a deep shuttering breath and released Miyako. "God, what am I doing?" she whispered, watching as the woman scrambled madly to stand up shakily. Without another word, Miyako ran in the direction of the palace, making sure never to glance back.

She finally did it. Sora didn't know whether to be relieved, proud, or ashamed. The weight was lifted off her chest, she could breathe evenly again, she was damn proud of herself. But after the pleasing sensation subsided, she had to face the overwhelming guilt and disappointment. She should have never resulted to violence, she was better than Miyako. The tears continued; now it was due to regret.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there—dress soiled, hand bloody and bruised repulsively, surrounded by the tangible remnants of her hopes and dreams. Even if she could bring herself to walk through the palace gates, there was no way the guards would let her pass. No mask, no invitation, and looking like the corpse's bride. But Mimi had said everything would work out, right? Mimi wouldn't lie to her. If she didn't attend the ball, Sora would have to face the shame of going back to Janine and telling her she failed. "Sorry I couldn't go. Sorry I can't take you all away and make your lives better."

Sora pushed herself off the ground and stood. A dizzying sensation rushed through her and she braced herself against the coach for a moment to let it pass. She wouldn't be the one to tell her friends she failed. She wouldn't give up, not when everything was so close, within her grasp, just waiting for her to reach out and take it all. She wouldn't spend the rest of her life wondering or regretting about this night, not like she had done so many times before about countless other nights.

The passageway Yamato and her and found would let her in. She would show up looking like hell, and she'd hold her head high.

**§**

The stone felt cool to the touch as her motions grew more and more frantic, hurried. Sora constantly spun around to check the area, perhaps she had forgotten the location of the passageway? No, she was certain this was it. It wasn't something you could forget so easily. Then why, why, why, why, was it not opening?

She started pounding at the wall, unsure of what to do anymore. A bitter laugh dissolved into the night, and she had said that the passageway was dangerous, that anyone could get in. Midnight drew closer and Sora's heart raced faster with each passing minute. What if she didn't get there in time? What if Yamato took some other woman to be his wife? She shook her head, Yamato wouldn't do that.

Discouraged, Sora felt her heart give a sickening drop to her stomach. With her back firmly against the stone wall, she slid down to the ground and drew her knees to her chest. She just didn't know what to do anymore. Surely the guards wouldn't let her into the palace, hell, she wouldn't even let herself into the palace. Her voice sounded harsh and strained in the thick silence as she laughed. _Good God, I'm going crazy_.

She had hit the bottom of the painfully deep well in one night and now, there was nowhere else to go but up. She prayed that someone would go searching for her, send down a bucket, a lifeline, anything, but she knew the chances were slim. Still, with her anger and frustration spent, things were looking oddly more optimistic. Sora gave herself a good inspection with her hands and laughed again. The crown of baby's breath had long ago fallen off and her dress was not only bloodstained, but now torn as well. She had ripped off part of the fine underskirt to use as a makeshift bandage around her right hand. Miyako was a driven—a bitch, but a driven bitch. If the outcome of everything she did wasn't so dismal, Sora would have thought Miyako's determination to be downright inspirational. _Now I _know_ I'm crazy._

So, it was sitting against the stone wall by herself, laughing wildly and thinking that nothing could possibly make things worse, that Sora proven correct. The strand of pearls around her neck morphed back to the original necklace and Sora tensed. A minute before midnight. A minute before Yamato would announce his decision. She stood up, and resumed the careful inspection of the wall. It was better than waiting for midnight to come and her meaning of life to end—Sora gasped.

Suddenly, she was no longer in the chilly night air. The dim passageway with its smooth stone walls, bleak lighting (she stopped to wonder for a minute just who lit the torches in the passageways), and mucky scent was the most inviting thing she had seen in… well, that long if you stopped to think of it. As her hand touched the familiar pendant around her neck, it hit Sora that the night before, the necklace had changed just as the passage opened as well. Now that her mind was working properly again, she remembered Mimi telling her repeatedly not to forget the necklace. She smirked; Mimi wasn't very good at giving clues.

So the passageways must've only opened around midnight, minute before, minutes after. As Sora raced along the dingy corridor, she realized she owed the maker an apology. It wasn't dangerous and careless. It was the most thoughtful thing she had ever known.

**§**

Yamato was having trouble breathing. The women around him were too much to bear, their perfumes were intoxicating, they were all poison. Slow, painful poison to the senses. He smirked handsomely, Sora would like that, a little more of his broken poetry as she would call it. His dark eyes scanned the room for the millionth time, searching for a fiery redhead, but like all the times before, his gaze returned to the floor, defeated. To his right, Yamato saw his mother pass a worried gaze at him. He had promised to announce his bride at midnight and midnight, was drawing closer by the second. What would he do if Sora didn't arrive in time? Stall?

From a distance, the deep ringing of the clock tower could be heard.

Panic washed over him like a chilling waterfall, what in the world was he going to do? Too confident, Yamato had been sure Sora would arrive in time. A hand was placed on his shoulder and he glanced upwards to see his mother look down at him regrettably. She gave a light squeeze. Simple, no need for words. He looked away, his midnight blue gaze hard and cold. The prince stood with a sigh and the room instantly surrendered to silence.

_Stall._ It was the only thing he could think of, but what would it accomplish? It was only delaying the inevitable. Once more his gaze traveled around the room, lingering on foreign faces he hadn't recognized. _Make a decision, Yamato_. He broke out in a dazzling grin all of a sudden and a collective sigh sounded throughout the audience. The decision had been made all along.

Yamato opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly stopped, frozen stark still as a soft _clink _could be heard from the direction of the gardens. His heart stopped with his breath and his eyes stayed on the pair of large French doors. The ballroom grew even quieter if possible as more and more occupants were alerted to the crescendo of _clinks_.

The sound grew louder, thundering in Yamato's mind until a breathless Sora raced into the ballroom, oblivious to the bewildered and repulsed looks she received. He saw only her and his features instantly lit up into a euphoric grin—until he saw only her and her _bruises_. He stared, expression blank and confused at the sight of Sora's soiled gown, and bandaged and bloodied hand. He rushed forward against a few women's objections and made his way to Sora, arms parted, welcoming, loving, ready to soothe away her problems.

Sora relaxed against his warmth and laughed inwardly. An hour ago she was worried that he might've been displeased with her looks, but he took her in his arms like a secretly treasured china doll. One of the many reasons she grew to love him so quickly. Yamato had this amazing ability to make you forget your doubts and troubles with one glance. With a kiss, he could make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Of course, she'd have to make sure that the latter was reserved for only her.

So lost in her blissful musings, Sora had forgotten about the problems at hand—something she blamed on Yamato.

He held her at arms' length, eyes boring into hers, hands radiating warmth and comfort where they touched her skin. "Tell me." Two words and Sora poured her heart out, not caring if everyone in the room heard. They probably did, seeing as how every syllable seemed to bounce off the smooth walls.

For some reason, she felt a little dirty and low for ratting out Miyako so quickly, so loudly, so willingly, but she was mad, she was in pain, patience was _not_ a virtue that night. Besides that, Miyako had dared to hurt one of the few close friends Sora possessed, there was no forgiving of that. Somehow during the retelling of her story, even with the wild arm gestures and throbbing pain, Sora had managed to forget her hand. She had told Yamato the bare skeletal structure of what had happened, but none of the meat had been revealed. He grabbed her right hand as gently as he could and closed his fingers firmly around the bandages. There was no pain, only warmth.

"And this?" He asked, knowing the answer but showing undying concern for what she had to say.

"…Miyako stopped me with her heel before she tore the invitation to pieces." Sora glanced away, feeling like a five year old telling on a bully.

To her surprise Yamato's jaw clenched and he slowly unwrapped the makeshift bandage. Even Sora cringed at the sight of her hand, bruised, purple, raw, bloody, gory, anything else you could think of. It felt sticky and dirty above the hammering pain. He only smiled before lifting each finger to his lips.

When he straightened, his eyes were cool, burning fire. "Miss Inoue." His rich baritone voice was commanding, stern.

Sora blinked when Miyako stepped forward. She was still there? She actually stepped forward? The world didn't make sense anymore.

"Y-your royal h-highness." At least she _sounded_ scared, that seemed normal.

"Do you have _any_ idea how much pain and suffering you've bestowed upon Lady Takenouchi?"

She flinched lightly at the title. "…no."

"I should have you beheaded." Gasps sounded through the ballroom and Sora's eyes met his in a pleading look. "But of course, she's asked that you not be." He fought against the urge to add "little gullible vixen," under his breath. "However, as future queen, I will leave it in her more than capable hands to decide upon a suitable sentence."

Queen Natsuko beamed radiantly as her husband downed his drink with one gulp and slapped the nearest servant heartily on his back.

Miyako looked as if she had just been beaten with a large wooden stick and then forced to eat it. Sora? Queen? Punishment? Her voice raised an octave, much like her frustration. "But she is nothing but a servant! Look what she has done to me!" She tore off her mask in one fluid motion and displayed the scabs and bruises Sora had left. "This… this… _harlot_ is not fit to be queen and—"

The slap Yamato's hand made as it connected with the side of Miyako's cheek echoed through the silent chamber. His chest heaved with each breath and he held Sora closer to him, arm wrapped securely around her waist. "Never slander my bride's good name. I will not stand for _anyone_ who dares to defy her."

Sora's head was spinning with the overwhelming enormity of it all. Yamato had just announced her as his bride. Sora Takenouchi. _Lady _Sora Takenouchi. It was so uplifting, to finally be truly recognized and announced so widely with the title she had inherited in her own right from her mother. Miyako was being reprimanded. Yamato defended her honor and she knew from the way he held onto her body that it took all his self control to only slap the cow. Now wasn't that a nice feeling? The most gorgeous man in the kingdom, her future husband, the prince, future king, most importantly, her lover, was defending her honor. In fact, it was such a nice feeling that the rush of it all left Sora breathless. For the second time, she fainted in the prince's arms.

The soft silk caressed against Sora's skin, the texture smooth and flawless. The last time she had woken after such and embarrassing failure of her strength, she had stared up at the same lavish ceiling, ornate paintings, and heavy drapes. The soft aroma of freshly cut flowers floated to her nose and she inhaled deeply. She didn't know whether to be embarrassed of pleased. Euphoria won without a doubt. So what if she fainted in front of a million women? None of _them_ were waking up in the morning to silk pillows in the palace.

She giggled lightly to no one in particular and as she flipped over to face the windows and welcome the sunlight, Sora suppressed a sharp gasp. Her eyes met sapphire and her body froze.

Yamato stared at his beloved lazily from where he kneeled by the bed and reached out a hand to smooth away stray auburn strands. He chuckled. "What were you laughing about, love?"

"About how lucky I am."

He pouted. "You've got that right. I was the one who had to endure those women after you fainted. What happened, love? Our close proximity finally became too much for you to bear?"

She laughed and stretched lazily out on the bed. "Oh yes, I was thinking of ways to be rid of you."

Yamato's grin was unfazed. "I _regrettably_ inform you that it will never happen. Not in a million years."

"'Tis good that I adapt quickly."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Say you will be my wife. I want to hear you say it."

"I haven't heard the question yet, how can I possibly answer?"

"Lady Takenouchi, will you be—"

Her hand darted out to cover his lips and a mirthful gleam entered her eyes. "No, _no_, Yama my love, I want to be _surprised_," she said before she removed her hand.

"You minx."

"Better than a cow."

"Agreed."

"What happened after I fainted, Yama? I must say, I've always been known for my good health. Fainting spells have not been in my history until I met you."

"I knew it was the proximity."

"It must be from the horrid stench you give off at a close distance."

"Lies, Sora love."

She smirked and rolled her eyes, turning more onto her side for a better view of his face. "So tell me, what happened?"

"I had Miyako beheaded—no, no, I didn't," he added quickly when the color drained from Sora's face. He didn't know why she protected the witch so, but anything for Sora, right? "I had her brought to the dungeons. She's awaiting your decision."

A smile tugged on the corners of her lips. Was it so wrong to feel so smug and satisfied at the knowledge Miyako was in the dungeons? Her smile widened. It felt good. In fact, she was sorry she hadn't been awake to see it happen. Knowing Miyako, the words "kicking" and "screaming" came to mind.

"Afterwards, I brought you here and conveniently used you as an excuse to leave the ball," her eyes narrowed a little and he continued, "Mother and father are eager to meet you. My mother is completely supportive, and my father I believe, has finally relented."

Everything sounded so perfect, Sora wasn't sure she could believe it all.

"As for Catherine Grant, since she hasn't actually physically acted, I only banned her from the palace, you, me, our children, their children, their children's children, their children's children's chil—"

"I see." She thought for a moment. "Catherine was… probably just desperate for attention. I don't believe she was too ill hearted to do anything like Miyako." Suddenly Sora's eyes widened and she shot up in bed, holding a hand against her forehead as the dizzying whirl returned. "Yamato, my friends—"

"Say no more, princess. I will have my men bring them to the palace where they are welcomed to stay forev—"

"Thank you!" she moved forward to wrap her arms around Yamato but stopped when he held up a hand.

"—under one condition."

"What… condition?" Sora bit her bottom lip lightly, uneasy with the turn of the conversation.

His handsome features broke out in a huge grin. "Will you marry me?"

"You're terrible!"

"Did I surprise you?"

"No, but you did lose a lot of my respect for you."

He hung his head; shoulders slumped.

"Yamato, Yamato, Yamato. Did I ever mention that your hair reminds me of… dried hay? It's quite nice."

"Oh, but I love your rusted metal much more."

A passive silence passed between the two until Sora sighed happily and snuggled further into the feather pillows.

Yamato raised a questioning brow, his expression one of amusement. "What is it, love?"

"I'm just… happy." She frowned. Happy was such a meek word to use, but it was just so fitting. "My friends, Janine, Marianne, Sam, Taichi—"

"Taichi? Who's Taichi?" he quipped, slightly alarmed at the new male name.

Sora only laughed and tousled Yamato's hair lovingly. It might've looked like hay, but it was no where near the texture of hay. "A childhood friend, we grew up together. He has a younger sister named Kari and we're just… they feel like family, Yamato."

His expression softened. "You deserve to feel loved."

"You make me feel loved."

"If you think this is how it feels to be loved, just wait until our wedding night, love."

"Yamato!" He silenced her with a kiss. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"What ques—oh." A slow smile spread on her lips. "Will you open the palace to my friends?"

"Is my answer not obvious?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Will you stop asking questions long enough to answer one?"

Sora rolled over onto her back and onto her side once more, throwing her head about and laughing whole-heartedly. "Yes."

Yamato flashed her an I'm-sexy-and-I-know-it grin before climbing onto the bed and dipping his face down over hers. "Is that a you will answer one question, 'yes', or a you'll marry me, 'yes'?"

His breath was warm and tempting and Sora couldn't help but part her lips just a little in anticipation. "It's both," she murmured with her eyes fixated on his mouth.

Yamato's lips met hers in a hard, scorching kiss while his hands snaked around her slender frame to hold her as close as humanly possible; she knew he'd never let go.

Epilogue 

"Oooooooooh Yama, that hurts!"

"How about now, love?" he whispered huskily.

Her reply was a pleasurable "Mmmm." "Yamato Ishida, accomplished masseuse. Will the surprises never cease?"

He laughed heartily. "If I stop surprising you, I'm afraid you'll find me dull."

"You? Impossible."

"It is one of my greatest fears." The prince's hands traveled up to his wife's nape and his nimble fingers began rubbing the skin with practiced tenderness. "Is that good?"

A soft, barely audible moan escaped her lips. It made him shiver. After two years of blissful marriage, the barest touch from her could still make Yamato think thoughts that would have sent any other young man jumping into a tub of ice. Fortunately for the prince, his wife made no protest to his more… adventurous schemes.

"I'm tired, Sora," he teased.

"But remember, what's good for me, is good for the child." Her hands instinctively went to her barely swollen abdomen. "I can't believe Janine was with child before I."

Yamato's hands traveled down his wife's arms until they covered her smaller hands, positioned on her stomach. "She and Joe were married before we were," he reasoned.

She smiled. "They make such a lovely pair." After the prince's engagement was formally announced, Sora had her friends brought to the palace as promised. Janine didn't stay long and quickly left to live with Joe, but visited almost daily. Taichi and Kari decided to stay at the butcher shop, where the business blossomed when Yamato declared that Taichi was the official royal butcher. It made no difference to Taichi or Hikari—they both visited as often as possible. Sometimes even with Takeru in tow. Marianne and Samuel were the only ones who stayed at the palace with Sora.

The wedding had been lavish and grand as expected, mostly filled with strangers to them both. As promised, Mimi attended the wedding and her daring dress quickly became the talk of the town. She cried and hugged Sora, half her tears due to her sorrow and guilt for not warning Sora of the horrendous night, and the other half out of pure joy for the young woman. Later that evening, Yamato had surprised Sora by whisking her away to a faraway estate where the seclusion and intimacy was ideal for any of Yamato's "adventures."

"I can't wait until the day I can hold her," came Yamato's voice.

Sora blinked. "Hold who?"

He squeezed her stomach lightly in response, earning a coy smirk from his wife.

"Who said anything about a girl? I want a boy."

"A boy?"

"So he can grow to be just like his father, of course. I can see him now, handsome and daring."

"But a girl would have your beauty and grace."

Sora lifted a brow and her smirk widened. "I already sleep in your bed willingly, why are you still charming me?"

He leaned down, brushing his lips lightly against hers. "Because it is the truth."

She parted her lips and pressed harder against her husband, eager to taste his lips. "I suppose, we'll have to have both a boy and a girl then, my prince," she whispered, breath warm against his skin.

Yamato chuckled and purposely pulled away to tease his wife. It worked like a charm and she pouted prettily. "It'll be 'my king' by next week," he corrected.

"I think your ego is swelling faster than my stomach."

"Anything you say, my queen."

_End_

**

* * *

AN:** It's finished! Finally! I'm really sorry, that it's probably not "polished" but it's 5:40am and I need to update before I leave. When I get the time, I'll proofread! Good God, I went through a few versions of this chapter and decided to just settle. It came out… a little worse than I hoped it would be, but a little better than I thought it would be. A decent compromise. 

About **Miyako**, I know people were dying for her to… die, but not only could I just either kill her off or think of anything bad enough to make him stop, I thought why not let the readers decide what they wanted to do to Miyako. Catherine… I didn't really dislike her at all oddly, so I just felt pity on her.

_FH_ was just kind of a… on a whim thing and I'm going to admit that I thought it was shit halfway through, but decided that instead of going back and changing everything, making the next chapters better than the previous ones would be a better choice. Another deal with TheLadyKnight came into play as well, lol.

It's been fun writing this, but even more fun _finishing_ it. I have a one-shot planned, and then another high school fic (just because they're so damn fun to write). Both Soratos. I hope to see some familiar reviewers!

Thank you for taking time and reading this story! (Now, a review perhaps?)

6am, time to go to sleep.

_And they lived happily ever after…_


End file.
